After Everything's Said and Done
by BroflovskiFan
Summary: StanKyle. New feelings are unearthed between the boys when they return to South Park after their first university terms for winter break. Chaos and hilarity ensues.
1. Being here again SPOV

**Dude, this is seriously weak.**

The boys reunite during Christmas vacation after their first semesters of university. The boys, now 18, find that hardly anything has changed among them at all, which could be good news, but also very bad. Kyle has returned from law school at Harvard and Stan is taking Business Studies. Kenny, after managing to secure a loan, is studying Communications. Cartman however, just never really tried in school, so it was no surprise that he couldn't get enough credits to graduate and therefore had to stay back a year.

Stan's POV:

It was a freezing cold day, and I wanted nothing more than to get back to my house and fall back asleep under my warm blankets. But nooo, mom insisted that since I was home for the first time since September that I needed to help around the house, starting my walking Sparky, who insisted on stopping at every single tree to sniff it.

"Goddamnit Sparky, will you PLEASE hurry up? It's fucking freezing out here and I want to get back!" I cursed at my dog, who responded with nothing more than a confused look in my direction. My breath came out in tiny puffs from the cold, and I tried to walk faster in a futile attempt to warm up. I looked around me; I had made it onto Kyle's street.

Kyle. His name struck a painful chord within me. He had gone off to Harvard to become (surprise) a lawyer like his father. This meant that we were half a country apart. I hadn't seen him since we left South Park in September. Even though we talked a lot which sure as hell made a dent in our phone bills, it wasn't the same as talking to him in person. Fact of the matter was, I missed my best friend, and couldn't wait to see him again. I remember he told me that he insisted on driving back himself in his Ferrari his parents bought him as a graduation present, despite his mother's protests. She had wanted him to take a plane back; although she didn't show it too much, Sheila really missed her son and couldn't wait for him to return. I smiled to myself as I remembered that Kyle was supposed to be returning sometime today. My stomach clenched for a moment, which confused me. Why would I be nervous about seeing my best friend again? I quickly shook it off as excitement and kept on going.

I heard the sound of a car in the distance. I turned around, and sure enough a car had just rounded the corner at the end of the street. I squinted; as it approached, I recognized the metallic blue tint of the car that was Kyle's Ferrari. I stood across the road from Kyle's house with Sparky as Kyle pulled up into his driveway. I watched him turn off the engine and get out of the car. He turned around, seeing me, grinned and waved. I returned the greeting.

"What, did you drive all the way back?" I shouted at him jokingly as he made his way across the street.

"Are you kidding?" he replied. "I could drive this thing forever! Besides, there's no way I could part with Blitzkrieg for three weeks." We hugged each other for a brief moment, a moment which flooded my body with an unexplainable warmth. He released me, and I glanced over at his car which was 'Blitzkrieg'. I shook my head.

"I still say it's weird you named your car that." I said.

Kyle grinned. "And I still don't give a damn what you think," he laughed. "So when did you get back?"

"Late last night. I actually just woke up like an hour ago."

Kyle checked his watch. "It's four o clock dude. When the hell did you get so lazy?"

I smirked at him. "Around the same time you named your car Blitzkrieg."

Kyle punched my arm playfully, to which I responded by lightly smacking him upside the head. "You're such a dumbass," he said. "Why do you hate that name so much?"

I contemplated this. "I don't hate it, it's just really –"

"JEWISH!" I was cut off by the sound of Cartman's voice. I turned around and saw Cartman walking up the street. I saw Kyle's face contort with anger, the same as it always had since we were kids. Some things never changed.

"SHUT UP CARTMAN YOU FAT FUCK! AT LEAST I HAVE A CAR!" he shouted angrily at the overweight offender. Just then, we heard Kyle's mom's voice.

"Buhbi, is that you?" she asked as she opened the front door. Her eyes lit up as her gaze fell upon her son.

Kyle turned to me. "I guess I gotta go now. I'll see you around Stan." He started walking back to his house. Just then, I remembered something.

"Hey Kyle?" he stopped and turned back to me. "A bunch of people are coming by my place tonight. We're going to get pizza and movies and shit."

Kyle grinned at me. "I'm there," he assured me as he walked up the porch to his house. Just as the door, started to close, Cartman shouted out one last thing.

"Actually, it would probably be better if you didn't come. We're not planning on renting any Jewish movies." Kyle flipped him off before slamming the door shut. I frowned at Cartman.

"Dude. Just shut up," I said.

Cartman raised his eyebrows at me. "Oh hoh! Someone has their panties in a twist!"

I glared at him. "You know what? Fuck off," I retaliated before continuing on my way with Sparky.

End chapter one


	2. Coming Home KPOV

**Chapter Two – Kyle's POV**

I had been driving for nearly two days straight, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I started to recognize the familiar landscape around me. In less than an hour I would be home again. When I first left for Harvard, I thought I would be happy to get out of my hometown and away from my family for a while, especially my overbearing mother. Now I couldn't wait to get home – I hadn't even realized until now how much I missed them. My workload had been so deep, I had barely had time to eat, let alone think about my family. Even sleeping had become a distant memory for me – in the last three weeks during exams, I had pulled too many all nighters to count.

Becoming used to the lack of sleep has its good points though. I hadn't stopped to sleep since I left Harvard two days ago. This may have also been to the insane amount of caffeine I had been consuming – I was so hyped up right now, I think I was even twitching a little – I laughed as I was reminded of Tweak. I wondered if it was safe for me to be on the road anymore – oh well, it was ridiculous to stop at this point, being so close to home and all. I wonder what Stan would say if he actually knew that in the past two days, I had downed five extra large cappuccinos, at least eight coffees and ten red bulls.

Stan. His name struck a painful chord within me. I hadn't seen him since September, before we left for university. He was the main reason I seriously reconsidered not leaving to go so far away for – my mom would have skewered me though, if I had passed up on Harvard. I had been so used to seeing him every day at high school, it came as a bit of a shock to me when he suddenly wasn't there. I even woke up in the morning a few times, thinking about how I couldn't wait to see his reaction when I told him something, then feeling sick as I was suddenly reminded that we were hundreds of miles away – the only interaction we got was through the phone and MSN. Sure, we talked lots – nearly every night – but it wasn't the same as being in person. I remember one night about a month ago, I was so stressed out about a million assignments we had to do all due that week, that I totally lost it at like three in the morning. I called him, and even though I had woken him up (at this point, I had lost track of time) – he patiently listened to me scream at him on the other end about how much I hated it here and how much I hated all my professors for like an hour. Afterwards, I felt much better and was able to work the rest of the night. He was the one person in all of South Park that I missed the most, and thought about the most. But that was normal right? After all, we were – are – best friends. I was looking forward to spending the next two weeks with him. If I was lucky, maybe he wouldn't even talk too much about his girlfriend.

Hah. Fat chance. Stan never shut up about that girl, Mandy something-or-other. Sometimes I just felt like telling him that I really didn't care about what Mandy did, or what Mandy said, but that would be cruel. It was just that Stan always seemed to have a girlfriend hanging over him; first Wendy, then Monica, now Mandy. Even when they weren't there, Stan talked about them so much that it was as if they were.

I wasn't jealous or anything, either. I guess I kind of envied him a little – he was always the one with 'the girl,' while I somehow managed to stay single through all of high school. It wasn't that I wasn't interested in girls – believe me, I've seen plenty of cute girls walking around campus – I guess it's just that I don't think I'd really have time for one – I mean with the work and all. Yet I somehow can't stand it when I see a couple walking together – I think to myself 'why isn't that me?' It's no one's fault but my own I guess. Or maybe my father's. He was the one that blessed/cursed me with this so called marvelous brain that prevented me from having little time to do things other than study. That was why I was looking forward to doing nothing for three weeks, chilling with Stan, and catching up on sleep.

I snapped back to reality as I realized that I had turned onto my street. I really should stop doing that – spacing out while I'm driving, that is. What if I killed someone? Or worse, what if I dented 'Blitzkrieg?' I cringed at the thought. My car was my one true love, the one thing that would love me unconditionally. Cartman used to tease me about being in love with my car, but I could never deny it. Truth is, I loved Blitzkrieg almost as much as I loved Stan. But not THAT way. Of course not. Stan was like a brother. Plus, I was straight.

I glanced down my street. I grew excited as I saw my house. My home. Then my stomach clenched when I looked at the figure on the other side of the street, watching. It was Stan. By the looks of it, he had been out walking his dog. I quickly dismissed the feeling in my stomach as pure excitement.

I pulled up into my driveway and turned the engine off. I got out of my car, turned around, and let out the girliest squeal I had ever heard in my entire life. Mortified, I quickly covered it up by plastering my face with a stupid grin and waving, willing my cheeks to not go red from humiliation. I hoped to God he hadn't heard it.

I saw him return the greeting casually, and I let out a sigh of relief. I would have never heard the end of it if he had heard me. What had gotten into me? Stupid caffeine…

"What, did you drive all the way back?" he yelled at me teasingly. Of course he knew I had – I had told him a week before we left, and had a good laugh at how my mom had ceaselessly tried to convince me to take a plane. Taking a plane would have meant parting with Blitzkrieg for three weeks, and being out of a ride during that time as well.

"Are you kidding?" I joked back as I crossed the street. "I could drive this thing forever! Besides, there's no way I could part with Blitzkrieg for three weeks!" I gave Stan a brief friendly hug, and I swear to god it felt like he almost melted into me. Or was I just imagining it? I quickly let him go as he looked at my car and stated skeptically

"I still say it's weird you named your car that."

I grinned as I remembered the day I announced the name. He had given me this blank stare and said "Blitz-what?" I rolled my eyes and explained to him that it was pretty much the coolest word in existence and that it was German for a 'swift raid on a village'. So what if it was ironic that these Blitzkriegs mostly occurred during the Second World War, and I was Jewish? That didn't make it an any less cool word. Plus it made me feel European, and I liked that.

"And I still don't give a damn what you think," I retorted, then changed the subject. "So when did you get back?"

"Late last night. I actually just woke up like an hour ago."

I felt a twinge of envy. I checked my watch, even though I already knew what time it was. "It's four o clock dude. When the hell did you get so lazy?"

Stan smirked at me, and I knew he had thought of some sort of clever retort. "Around the same time you named your car Blitzkrieg."

I snorted and responded by lightly punching him in the arm, to which he responded by smacking me upside the head.

"You're such a dumbass," I laughed. "Why do you hate that name so much?"

Stan thought about this for a moment. "I don't hate it, it's just really –"

Stan was cut off by the voice I dreaded the most.

"JEWISH!" Eric Cartman cried. I turned to see him walking down the street. Amazing he could still do that, seeing as he was as fat as he had ever been. I twitched in annoyance.

"SHUT UP CARTMAN YOU FAT FUCK! AT LEAST I HAVE A CAR!" I normally don't snap that fast, but the lack of sleep and way too much caffeine seemed to have affected my patience as well. Then I heard my mom's voice.

"Buhbi, is that you?" she opened up the front door. Crap. I was hoping to talk to Stan for more than thirty seconds. I turned to face him.

"I guess I gotta go now," I said regretfully. "I'll see you around Stan." I turned and headed towards my house.

"Hey Kyle?" I heard Stan's voice behind me. I turned around. "A bunch of people are coming by my place tonight. We're going to get pizza and movies and – shit," he ended lamely.

I smiled at him. "I'm there," I assured him as I walked up my porch. As I was closing the door, I heard Cartman shout one last thing:

"Actually, it would probably be better if you didn't come. We're not planning on renting any Jewish movies." I angrily flipped him off before slamming the door shut and immediately became swept up in an embrace from my mother.

End chapter two


	3. The ABCs of Planning a Party SPOV

**Chapter Three – Stan's POV:**

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

I buried my face into my jacket as I began to quickly walk home. What had I been thinking? 'I'm having some people over tonight.' Why did I even say that? Now I had to round up a whole bunch of people, get movies, food and drinks and somehow convince my parents to leave the house for the night without inducing suspicion.

"Nice going, braniac," I muttered to myself, frowning and trying to figure out how I could get this all to work. It was already four, if I was going to have people over I only had a few hours to prepare. What was it about Kyle that made it impossible for me to keep my head screwed on right?

My thoughts were interrupted by the shouts of Eric Cartman.

"Oi! Wait up!" he bellowed as he huffed and puffed to catch up with me. I waited for him to catch up, then continued walking at a quick pace.

"What's this about a party? You weren't thinking about not inviting me, were you?" he glared at me threateningly.

The last person I wanted around me was Cartman. I swear to god, he was the only person in this entire town I didn't miss one bit. Then I realized something – he didn't know this was a last minute preparation. He was convinced that I had invited everyone else but him, so maybe I could bribe him into helping me a little.

"I'll only invite you on one condition."

"Goddamn! I knew you wouldn't let me rip on the Jew!"

I actually hadn't thought of that. "Well, since you mentioned it, that too."

"Oi! I –"

"Cartman, your mom will do just about anything for you if you whine enough, right?"

"Ey! My mom-"

"I need drinks. Lots of drinks. We're all underage, but I bet you could get your mom to buy some for us. Just whine a lot."

Cartman thought about this for a moment. "I dunno if I can get my mom to do that, she's pretty strict about drugs and alcohol."

I patted Cartman on the shoulder. "Drinks, or no go." I turned and left with Sparky, heading back home.

"I'm not making any promises!" he shouted after me. I smirked.

"DRINKS, OR NO GO!" I shouted back as I continued walking. I heard him cuss me out, but I didn't care. That was one down – now to take care of getting my parents out.

I had just begun to think of a plan involving a calculator, chicken pox and the end of the world when I had reached my doorstep. I was just about to turn the doorknob when my mom opened it from the inside and just about walked into me.

"Stanley, there you are!" she exclaimed. I blinked at her. She was all dressed up. I also noticed my father behind her, who was dressed up too.

"Uh, where are you going?" I asked casually, trying not to sound excited at the possibility they'd be out for the night.

"Oh, your father and I are going out for the evening – dinner and a musical. We won't be back until later."

"In fact, if things go well, and I have a feeling they will, we won't be back until tomorrow," my father interjected, winking at me. I shuddered as my mom playfully smacked me dad, saying "Randy!" The last thing I wanted to think about were my parents doing THAT.

Mom turned her attention back to me. "Are you sure you'll be okay for the night? Shelly will be around if you need anything." I rolled my eyes at her.

"Mom, I'm eighteen. I've been at university for the past four months. I think I can handle being home alone for the night."

She patted my shoulder consolingly. "Of course you can," she said absentmindedly.

"Oh, and feel free to have a few friends over if you want. I'm sure you miss them all, especially Kyle." My father winked at me, leaving me feeling a bit confused. What was he implying by that?

"Thanks. I might just do that," I smiled as I watched them get into the car and drive away. The second they were out of sight, I did a little happy dance as I praised the heavens for getting rid of my parents until tomorrow. Next step – operation get my sister out of the way for the night.

"Oh Shelly?" I called out ever so sweetly.

"What do YOU want?" I followed her voice into the kitchen. Over the years, she had really changed in appearance. She had outgrown her headgear and now had perfect teeth. She was slender and tall; in fact, at 5'10, she was only three inches shorter than me. She was sitting on the counter, eating a bowl of cereal. I approached her carefully.

"Why would you think I wanted anything, dear sister?" I was almost disgusted with how sweet my voice sounded. "I was just wondering if you had any plans for the evening."

"No, and why the hell do you want to know?" she demanded, eyes narrowing.

"Oh no reason. I was just thinking since you've been away for a while to college and all, that maybe you'd like to go spend the evening out with your boyfriend. I mean, you haven't seen him for a while, right?"

"Kevin doesn't get back until tomorrow. And why do you want me out of the house so damn bad?" he eyes opened in realization. "Oh shit Stan. If mom and dad catch you-"

"They're not gonna catch me. They're out until tomorrow."

She glared at me. "And what's gonna keep me from tellin' them, turd?"

I was prepared for this. "Twenty bucks," I responded.

"Twenty bucks? The hell am I going to do with twenty bucks for a whole evening?" I was prepared for this too. "Double that and I'll disappear for a while."

I pretended to think about that for a while, before glowering and pulling out my wallet. If I gave in too eagerly, she would have forced me to increase the bribe. "There," I glared at her as I said this. "I hope you're happy."

"Oh believe me, I am," she snickered at me before flouncing off to her room. I breathed a sigh of relief before darting into my room and turning on my computer. Within ten minutes, I had sent out a mass email to everyone, save Kyle and Cartman, stating that there was to be a party at my place at seven and everyone who wanted to come had to bring food or drinks of some sort. I would be able to deal with pizza on my own. I then went downstairs to call Kenny, who, despite having a scholarship, could not afford a computer. After I hung up with him, I checked my watch. Shit. Nearly 5:30 and I had to go out to get movies. Since my parents had the car, that meant that I would be walking tool, further cutting in on the small amount of time I had left. This party was seriously gauging out my bank account. I cursed myself once again for blurting out anything to Kyle. Just as I was about to leave to rent movies, I heard the phone ring. I dashed over and picked it up.

"Hello?" I said breathlessly.

"Hello Stan, is your mother home?" It was Mrs. Cartman.

I blinked, confused for a moment as to why she would call. "'Fraid not, Mrs. Cartman."

"Oh, well could I ask you a question then sweetie?"

"Sure."

"Are you having some sort of party over there tonight? My son seems to think that you are, and that he expects me to buy alcohol for him. You know my views on drinking, Stanley." Shit. Cartman's mom had become less of a pushover over the years. I prayed to God that she was just as gullible as well. I thought fast.

"What? Why, I was merely planning on having a few friends over, Mrs. Cartman. We were maybe going to get pizza, and hang out, you know, maybe play a few rounds of Yahtzee, or Scrabble. I am terribly sorry if I gave your son the impression that there would be alcohol here. ALCOHOL, of all things! I assure you, you have nothing to worry about, Mrs. Cartman." Please believe me, please, please.

Mrs. Cartman paused for a moment, thinking on the other end. "So there will be no drinking then?" It sounded more like a statement than a question.

"No of course not. But I do appreciate your concern," I replied, trying to sound as sincere as possible.

"Oh all right then. I'll let my poopykins know. Have a good evening, hun."

"Same to you," I replied and I hung up. Crap. This wasn't looking good. Sure, one or two people may bring a few drinks, but it would be nearly enough for everyone. There was a usual habit in South Park that when you invite a few people over, half the teens in town turned out, if not more. I racked my brain over and over again, and I could still only think of one solution: Shelly.

I knew I'd be pushing it by asking her, but what other choice did I have. I sighed and headed up the stairs as I heavily cursed Cartman for screwing us over. However much this cost, he owed me that. Or else I would pound his fat ass into pulp, I assured myself. I reached out and knocked ever so lightly on Shelly's door.

"What NOW?" she demanded when she saw me come in with a pleading look in my eyes. She was at her mirror, putting on makeup. "I've called up some friends and we're going out clubbing. I gotta get ready."

"Erm, Shelly?"

"I already said what!"

I gave her a puppy look. "You're my big sister, and you'd do anything for me, right?"

"Depends on how much you pay me," she replied.

"Well, Cartman was supposed to go out and get drinks, but his mom found out –"

"And now you want me to go out for you, is that it?" I nodded ruefully.

"Well too bad. I have to leave soon."

"Shelly, you don't understand! I need you – I – I'll do anything!"

She turned around and looked at me, hand on her hip. "Tell you what. Give me forty dollars PLUS money to buy the drinks, and I guess I could work something out."

My eyes bulged and my mouth dropped open. Was she insane? "Shelly – "

"Fine, no deal then." She turned back to the mirror.

"Wa-wait! GOD! Fine then! And I hope you rot in hell!" I snarled as I pulled out my wallet once again, handing her $100.

She looked at it. "Jesus, how much alcohol are you planning on consuming, twerp?"

"Depends on how many show up." _Cartman owes me sixty bucks_ I made a mental note.

Shelly rolled her eyes at me. "Whatever, let me get my keys. What do you want?"

"You decide; I have to run to the movie store," I said, turning to leave.

"Wait! If I'm going out, I might as well drive you to the store as well. Just let me finish getting ready." Shelly's car? The only other person I'd ever seen inside that thing other than her was her boyfriend – she totally freaked if anyone so much as touched it. I swear, she loved that thing even more than Kyle loved Blitzkrieg.

"Thanks." I smiled at her as I headed back downstairs. I dialed Cartman's cell number to avoid getting his mom.

"What?" I heard him respond after the third ring. Nice greeting.

"Hey fatass, you nearly screwed me over with your mom and all."

"Ey! I told you I she wouldn't go for it-"

"Whatever. I got Shelly to get them. But if you want to come, you owe me $60."

"Sixty dollars? What the hell? Why?"

"Because, Cartman, I'VE JUST SPENT EIGHTY DOLLARS BRIBING SHELLY INTO DOING IT, AND I STILL HAVE TO GET MOVIES! IF YOU WANT TO COME, YOU SURE AS HELL BETTER BRING THE MONEY!"

"Hey! I'm not going to be the only one at home tonight!"

"WELL THEN YOU BETTER SURE AS HELL BRING THE MONEY."

Pause. "I hate you so much Stan."

I smiled. "I hate you too fatass," I replied. I hung up the phone before I could hear his protest that he wasn't fat, he was big boned.

Shelly came down the stairs. "This better be quick," she said.

"It will be, I assure you." _Especially since we have less than an hour now._

Shelly raced me to the movie and liquor store. Although the man glanced at us suspiciously, seeing as how much alcohol we bought, he said nothing. She dropped my off at home at quarter to seven, just a few minutes before her friends came to pick her up. One of them winked at me. Exhausted, I collapsed on the couch, and decided we could always order pizza later. I moaned as I thought about how much money I had spent over some stupid thing I said to Kyle. If only I hadn't opened my mouth, none of this would have happened, and I would have been able to keep my money. I heard the doorbell ring, and I thought to myself, _this is going to be a long night. _


	4. Empty Beer Bottles KPOV

Kyle's POV – Empty Beer Bottles

I walked up the Marsh's stairs and rang the bell. From the looks of it, the party had already started some time ago; I had tried to call Stan earlier to ask what time we were supposed to come over, but I only got the answering machine. In the end I decided it was better to be late than early to these things, something I had learned from past experiences. I always enjoyed watching people be stupid drunk for a while before becoming one of them anyways. I smiled as I recalled our post-commencement celebration party, once again at Stan's house. It seems these things were always at his house; probably because he was one of the most popular and good looking guys at the school. At least that's what the girls said.

Where was I? Oh yeah, the post-commencement party. It had started around nine, but me and Stan being the lightweights we are were gone in less than two hours. I mean like gone. Totally out of our minds; I barely remember anything from that night. I only have about two memories from that night; me laughing hysterically at something Stan said causing me to double over. I lost my balance and fell on top of a checkerboard on which Craig and Clyde were playing shot glass checkers, causing the glasses to tip and soak the back of my shirt in vodka.

The other memory was Stan throwing up on me. It caused a chain reaction, causing me to run to the bathroom, but being in the intoxicated state I was, threw up in the kitchen sink. It took me forever to get it all to go down the drain; it was totally sick. At this point I had taken off my puke and alcohol soaked shirt. I went to the bathroom and discovered that my entire back was bright blue. I later found out that Craig, being the genius he was, decided it would be cool to put blue food colouring in the vodka they were playing checkers with. It took me nearly three weeks to get the blue stain completely removed from my back.

I smirked at the memory. If this party was going to be anything like the last, this would certainly be a memorable night.

The door swung open, revealing Stan Marsh with a beer bottle in his hand. His cheeks weren't even flushed – I assumed he hadn't really had much yet.

"Dude! Everyone's been here for two hours! I thought you weren't going to show up or something!"

I shrugged. "Eh. Better late than never." Someone screamed in the background.

Stan glanced over his shoulder. "Alright, well come on in," he said, leaving me at the door.

Just then Bebe staggered over. "Whoizzit?" she slurred at Stan. Then she noticed me. "OMIGAWD! KYLE!" she screeched as she ran over to me, nearly knocking me over. She hugged me so hard I felt like I was being crushed and screamed into my ear.

"OMIGAWD! I HAF NOT SEEN YOU FOR SOOOOOOOOOOOO LONG! HOW ARE YOU?" She was talking way too loud.

I pried the girl off of me. It wasn't that I didn't like Bebe, I just found her to be superficial and rather annoying. "Um, I'm fine Bebe." Shit, where did Stan go? I looked around. _Please Stan, please come back and save me_, I prayed. "Er.. how are you?" I said to Bebe, trying to seem polite.

Bebe latched onto me again. "OMIGAWD! My lame-ASS boyfriend just totally dumped me last week, but it's okay because I never really liked him anyways BUT it was so embarrassing because I wanted to dump HIM first! Asshole TOTALLY stole my idea!" she announced. "BESIDES, I got YOU now right KYLE? I mean, I know we haven't talked in AGES but I totally missed you soooooooo much! Did you miss me?"

My God, was she hitting on me? "Sure.." I responded weakly, trying to get her off of me. She merely giggled and reattached herself.

Just when it was looking as though I would have Bebe latched onto me the whole night, I saw Stan walking back towards me, with a second beer in his hand.

"Stan!" I shouted perhaps a little too eagerly, as I was struggling with a Bebe now hooked to my waist. I finally managed to pry her off and took off towards Stan before she got a chance to get me once again. She did however, manage to slap my ass before I got out of her range. The girl was a fucking leech.

"KYLE! I thought we were going to talk and catch up!" Bebe shouted, pouting.

"We'll talk later," I assured her as I walked away with Stan.

"Dude, sorry for leaving you with her… I just went to get you a beer," he said, handing me the second bottle in his hand.

"No worries man. Thanks," I responded as we headed into the living room. A cheer went up as I entered the room. I blinked stupidly, as I looked around. My god, could this many people even fit in one room? There had to be like at least 50 people. I heard footsteps upstairs, and people screaming in other rooms. There were two people making out on the couch, and through the masses it looked as though someone was getting a blowjob in the corner. I cringed.

"Shit dude, who did you invite to this thing?" I asked Stan, raising an eyebrow.

Stan grinned at me. "Everyone," he laughed as he took a swig of beer. I was just about to respond when-

"BROFLOVSKI!" I whirled around to see a very, very drunk Kenny grinning at me. "How are you man? Oh dude, I so fucking wasted!" he declared, throwing his beer up in the air. It came back down and conked him nicely on the head. A round of laughter and applause rose up for him. Kenny grinned like an idiot and tried to take a bow, nearly toppling over in the process. He rose back up.

"Shit, dude, do you have any idea what I've drank?" I shook my head no, laughing. "FUCK! I was hoping someone could tell me!" he exclaimed, laughing like a hyena.

"Good to see you too, Ken," I responded before he stumbled out of the room after some girl equally drunk as he.

I turned back and looked at Stan. "So what do we do now?"

Stan grinned at me. "We drink."

Five beers and too many shots to remember later, Stan and I were totally smashed. I had just said something funny, I don't even remember what, and we were both rolling around on the floor amidst a sea of empty glasses. I had no idea what time it was, and I didn't really care. Everything was blurry and happy and swell; I had even become oblivious to everyone but me and Stan. This was life at its best.

"Man, this is life at its' best!" I declared to Stan, which sent us both into another fit of laughter. I loved Stan's laugh; I could listen to it all day.

"Dewd, ya know whut we need right NOW?" Stan asked, wiping a tear from his eye.

I became intrigued. "What?"

"We fucking need more beer," he said, dangling an empty bottle in front of me. I cracked up laughing, doubling over and knocking my head into the bottle. It didn't hurt, but it was enough to send us over the edge. It was a good two minutes before we could talk again, clutching our bellies and wiping tears away from our eyes.

"We don't need more 'fucking' beer," I declared when I could finally talk again. Stan looked at me curiously "We need more kick-ass, mother-fuckin' sonofabitch beer!" I shouted. Stan peeled over, falling forwards onto the carpet, clutching his stomach and laughing. I would do anything to make him laugh all day.

"Dude, I think all we ever do when we're drunk is just laugh," he said.

I raised an eyebrow. "So?"

I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and stood up. Stan did the same.

"FATASS!" I roared gleefully, seeing Cartman. I tried to hug him – hey I was drunk – but he pushed me away, sending me toppling into Stan, causing us to both fall backwards onto the floor. This sent the entire room into fits of laughter, including us. Stan pushed me off of him drunkenly, and I stood up again.

"Watch it Jew!" Cartman slurred. "Don't want my camcorder broken." I looked at his hand, which indeed had a camcorder in it.

"What are you using that for?" I asked stupidly.

"What do you think dumbass? I'm making a movie outta this kick-ass party! This is gonna be hella sweet to watch later!" This gave me an idea.

"Hey Cartman, is that thing recording right now?" I asked him mischievously.

"Yeah, why?"

I turned around quickly, yoinking down my pants and exposing my pale ass to the camera. "This is motherfuckin' why!" I screamed. The entire room erupted in cheers. I watched Stan's face turn from horror, to bewilderment, to amusement. He collapsed on the floor for the umpteenth time that night, laughing hysterically.

"Ew, Jew that is nasty!" Cartman screamed in horror. "I'm editing that out, just so you know!" I had pulled my pants back up and was laughing myself.

"Broflovski, you're the fuckin' life of the party!" someone screamed from the back. I couldn't see their face through my blurred vision.

"Thanks dude!" I yelled back.

Just then a whole throng of girls came rushing in, giggling drunkenly. I noticed Wendy was leading them.

"Who wants to play spin the bottle?" she announced gleefully.

"Dude, that game is so grade school!" Stan shouted at her. She laughed.

"So?"

"Good point," he stated. "I'm in."

Wendy looked at me. "Ah, why the hell not?" I decided.

A dozen more people around the room shouted their agreement.

"Alright, whoever wants to play, come meet us upstairs in Stan's room!" Wendy announced before Stan could protest. I shrugged at him and followed her up the stairs. I hadn't realized how drunk I was until I saw how heavily I was leaning on the railing to make it up the stairs.

"Dude, I'm going to be so hungover tomorrow," I muttered to Stan.

"Yeah. Me too," he said.

We followed Wendy into Stan's room where a dozen people were already seated. There was Bebe, Kenny, Red, Clyde, Craig, and a whole bunch of girls I didn't recognize. Among who had just entered were Wendy, me, Stan, Cartman, Token and a few others. We all sat around in a circle. No one did anything for a moment.

It was Bebe who cut in. "Shit. We need a bottle," she hiccupped. "Where can we get a bottle?"

Wendy rolled her eyes at her. "Hmmm, let's see. Where can we get a bottle? Bebe, you're holding an empty bottle in your hand right now!" A few people laughed at Bebe, who blushed.

"Right. Alright, well since I've got the bottle, I'll spin first. Hmmmm, who would like to kiss me?" she batted her eyelashes around the circle, stopping at me for a brief moment. I tried not to shudder.

Bebe spun the bottle. Around, and around, and around it went, finally coming to rest at…

No.

No fucking way.

The spirits must be out to get me.

Bebe giggled as I rolled my eyes. "Right whatever," I said. I leaned over to her before she had any time to react, and kissed her square on the mouth, then pulled back. She seemed a bit taken aback by my boldness, but whatever. I was done and over with. Bebe passed the bottle to Wendy. Wendy spun, landing on Clyde. He kissed her so hard, it looked almost painful. I could swear I even saw his tongue go into her mouth quickly. Token grimaced when he saw that but kept his cool – I assumed him and Wendy were still an item. Wendy looked shocked at Craig, but nonetheless wiped her mouth and passed the bottle on to some girl beside her. She spun, and landed on Cartman. She grimaced, but they kissed and passed it on.

Three more turns went until it came to Stan, who was sitting beside me. He spun and it landed on… himself.

"Oooooh, now Stan has to kiss himself," Bebe said.

"Dumb bitch, how the hell is he supposed to do that?" Craig demanded, flipping her off.

"Just spin it again Stan," Wendy said.

Stan spun. It landed on himself again.

"'K, what the fuck?" he said, glaring down at the bottle.

"Spin it again," Wendy said.

Stan spun two more times. They both landed on himself. At this point we all found this amusing and were cracking up.

"Keep spinning until you get someone else," Wendy said between gasps. Stan frowned and spun it once more. This time however, it didn't land on him.

This time, it landed on me.

I blinked stupidly at the bottle, as the entire circle went 'Oooooooo!', snickering at us.

"That can't be right," I said. "Spin it again Stan." He was just about to when Red slapped his hand away.

"Ah, ah, ah!" she smirked. "What the bottle says, goes."

"Kyle's a guy," Stan pointed out blatantly.

"Nice observation, captain obvious," Wendy said, now interested.

Everyone was looking at us. They really expected us to kiss each other. I leaned over quickly and pecked Stan on the cheek. Bebe giggled.

"Nice try Kyle!" she laughed. "It has to be a real one, on the mouth."

Fuck.

I felt the heat rise to my face. There was no way out of this. I stared at my feet.

"So we really have to do this, eh?" Stan asked the group. They all nodded enthusiastically. I kept my face turned towards my feet and my ugly gray socks.

Stan lifted my chin up towards him, and I scrunched my eyes up tight.

"I'm sorry dude, but they're not gonna let us go without doing this," he said. He hesitated. I opened my eyes for a brief moment and looked out at everyone. They were all staring at us. I felt their looks penetrating into me, through me, and I felt myself go ever redder. I looked at Stan just to see his head swoop in on me.

I gasped as our lips met. Whatever I was expecting, it was not this. His lips were soft and warm, and I felt a warmth run through my whole body. I was tempted to kiss back, but resisted. This was Stan. Not some girl.

It was over as quickly as it began. I felt him pull away, and startled myself when I felt resentful at this. My face was no longer red; it had gone pale and I stared at him in shock with my mouth slightly open. He smiled a little at me, clearly embarrassed and muttered "Sorry, dude."

Everyone else was staring at him too. Bebe was the first to speak.

"Damn Stan, that was fucking hot! Kiss me next!"

"No, me!" some random girl piped up.

Stan looked relieved. He smirked at both of them. "Ah, ah, ah. What the bottle says, goes. You'll have to see if you land on me."

What a flirt, I thought, smiling to myself.

The game continued on for a while. I ended up kissing three girls, and Stan kissed two other girls. There were a few other guy/guy and girl/girl occurrences throughout the game, but I wasn't really paying attention. My mind was still stuck on when Stan kissed me. And of all the thoughts I was having then, there was one that scared me most of all:

I actually liked it.


	5. Childhood Games SPOV

Okay, before this chapter starts, I have a contest for everyone. The person who tells me the best alibi to get your parents out of the house for the night that involves a calculator, chicken pox and the end of the world, will be rewarded greatly!

Now enjoy chapter 5! Don't forget to review!

Chapter 5 – Childhood Games - SPOV

Butters was the first to arrive. Typical – usually people showed up 'fashionably late' – half an hour later – but since Butters still lacked basic social skills, he showed up at EXACTLY 7 pm. I mean exact. Not 6:59, or 7:01, but 7:00 exactly. Weird eh?

Butters glanced around nervously. "Where is everybody?" he asked me quietly.

"Oh, you're the first person to arrive," I said. A look of guilt immediately crept along his face.

"O-oh, well, I-I guess I can come back later then," he said, looking at his feet. A pang of guilt hit me. The poor kid hadn't exactly had the best home life, especially over the last couple of years. The least I could do was be human to him.

"Nah, don't worry about it," I said, flashing a genuine smile at him. "Come in – I'm sure others will be here shortly." I took his jacket for him, something I normally wouldn't do for someone, and invited him over to the couch in the living room.

After a few painful minutes of trying to make small talk – Butters and I never really had much in common – I suggested we plug in the Xbox and play a few video games. Butters actually held his own quite well – he even beat me (gasp!) a few times.

Just as I had predicted, people didn't start showing up for a good half hour. After that, people were constantly flooding in. An hour later and I smiled as my prediction came true – half the teenage population of the town had to be here already, and more were still coming in. It was only 8pm and people were already cracking open the booze. It confused me how people could get drunk so fast so early in the evening. Within another half hour, a few people were already stumbling around. I watched Kenny down one, then two, then three beers in about 20 minutes – of course, it went straight to his head. I think he was gone after about half an hour. It had to be some sort of record.

I wandered around, watching everyone, while sipping a beer. No way would I get drunk until I had found Cartman and he had given me my money. I didn't want to forget about it. Where was he?

Just then, I heard someone barge in. A grunt has assured me it was Cartman. I walked over to the front door. Sure enough, Cartman was there, throwing off his jacket. I leaned against the wall with my hand out. Cartman looked up.

"Goddamnit Stan, you just can't wait two minutes can you?"

"It was our deal Cartman."

Cartman glared at me, then handed me the sixty bucks he owed.

"Thank ya. I have a little reward for you for being such a good little boy."

Cartman's chubby ears perked up at the word 'reward'. "What is it?"

I smirked then gestured for him to follow me. "You know," I said to him. "You should be grateful that I'm such a great friend, I probably shouldn't have even done this."

Cartman rolled his eyes at me. "Done what?"

I led him into the kitchen. I opened the top cupboard and pulled something out of the back. I had to hide it, or else someone would have already gotten to it. I displayed the bottle to Cartman, whose eyes widened. He drooled a little, looking at it.

Sambuca. By far, Cartman's favourite alcoholic beverage. The stuff tasted like black licorice, which I personally thought was disgusting, but for some reason Cartman loved it. I had bought it only because later I had felt a little guilty at making him pay all that. After all, it wasn't COMPLETELY his fault that he couldn't get the drinks.

Damn me for having a conscience.

I handed the bottle to Cartman before he drowned me in his drool.

"Fuckin' sweet!" he exclaimed, running off and cackling maniacally. I shook my head. No _Gee, thanks Stan_ or _That sure was nice of you Stan_. Typical Cartman.

I glanced at my watch – 8:30. Where was Kyle? Maybe I had missed him. I wandered around looking for him. As I passed by the front door, I saw Butters putting on his jacket.

"Leaving so soon?" I asked him.

"W-well, yeah. I-I really shouldn't be drinkin' – I'm a t-terrible liar so my parents would d-definetely find out." He gave me a small smile. _Poor kid never lets himself have any fun_, I thought with pity.

"Alright then. Have a good evening Butters." I smiled at him before continuing on my search for Kyle, which ended up becoming more and more difficult, as people kept on stopping me to talk, or clap me on the back for having such an 'awesome party.' I walked into the living room, and a round of applause and screams went up.

"Three fuckin' cheers for Stan!" Kenny cried out. "His house is the best damn place for parties!" A few people roared in acknowledgement. I laughed. Bebe was sitting on the couch with Wendy.

"Hey Stan, is Kyle coming?" she yelled while walking over to me. She hiccupped.

"Um, yeah he should be here soon," I replied. Bebe smiled drunkenly at me. She pressed herself up really close to me. She pouted. "My boyfriend broke up with me, isn't that so sad?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah, really sad," I said, trying to get her away from me.

She pressed herself up closer. I could feel her boobs pushing into my chest. "Why would he do that? Don't you think I'm sexy?" she asked me. _Oh my god. _

"Uh, Bebe, I have a g-girlfriend," I stuttered, using Mandy as an excuse.

This apparently seemed to turn her on more. "She doesn't need to know anything," she whispered to me.

I was saved by Wendy. "Okay, Bebe, let's just sit you back on the couch." She led Bebe away from me. She smiled sympathetically at me. I mouthed 'I owe you' at her, and she laughed. I left the room to continue the search for Kyle, which went fruitless.

I checked my watch. Nine o' clock. My stomach lurched slightly. Was he not coming? I planned this whole thing for him…

I heard a familiar knock at the door. _Bout time_, I thought. Only Kyle would knock at the door to a party when everyone else was barging in and out. Always the gentleman. I rolled my eyes and opened the door. Sure enough, there he was.

"Dude! Everyone's been here for two hours! I thought you weren't going to show up or something!"

He shrugged at me. "Eh. Better late than never" I turned my head as I heard someone scream from the living room.

"Alright, well come on in," I said to him. I left the door to go get Kyle a drink. Just as I was leaving, Bebe staggered over to me. She was even more drunk than before.

"Whoizzit?" she slurred at me. I shook my head and continued into the kitchen. I heard Bebe scream Kyle's name. As I remembered how Bebe had been to me, I walked a little faster. She had always liked Kyle somewhat. I could only imagine what she would do to him if she had the chance.

I went back towards the door to find Bebe attacking Kyle's waist. Kyle looked at me with a helpless look, trying to push her off of him as he cried my name. I tried not to laugh. He managed to get away from her, but not before she reached out and slapped his ass. Slight anger flared up inside me. _That's just not right. Someone needs to teach that slut to keep her hands to herself. Can't she see Kyle's not interested._ Confusion grew inside me. It wasn't THAT big a deal, was it? I shook me head just as Kyle was assuring Bebe they'd talk later. He shouldn't have said that – she'd hold it to him.

"Dude, sorry for leaving you with her," I apologized as I handed him a beer. "I just went to get you a beer."

He smiled at me and accepted the drink. "No worries man. Thanks." We walked into the living room, and another cheer went up. Kyle seemed a little taken aback by all the people that were there.

"Shit, dude, who'd you invite to this thing?" he asked me. He raised an eyebrow. _God he looks cute when he does that._ Wait, what?

I responded to Kyle, grinning, saying 'everyone,' before taking a huge swig of my drink. Alcohol would surely make my brain stop jacking off.

"BROFLOVSKI!" I nearly jumped out of my socks. Kenny was standing there, grinning like a fool at Kyle.

"How are you man? Oh dude, I'm so fuckin' wasted!" he announced, throwing his beer bottle up in the air. It came down nicely on his head. Good going, genius.

Kyle looked both repulsed and amused by Kenny as they continued on their conversation. I suddenly found Kyle's hair very fascinating. It had been a curly little 'fro when we were younger, and he was ashamed of it. Over the years, it had loosened up into nice curls that framed his face, and he has cut it shorter. It looked really rather nice.

As Kenny left, Kyle turned back to me. "So, what do we do now?" he asked.

I grinned at him. _What do we always do at these things, Kyle?_

"We drink."

I led Kyle into the kitchen to get another beer, when I spotted a glass checkerboard someone had left there, along with several small shot glasses.

"Care for a game?" I grinned at him, motioning at the board. He grinned.

"Sure."

I brought the glass board and glasses over to the table. Kyle found Cartman's bottle of Sambuca, already half empty, by the fridge.

I wrinkled my nose. "Dude, that stuff tastes like shit," I informed him.

This did not deter him. "So? It's like, 43 alcohol or something."

"But it tastes like shit."

"Fine then Stan, be a little pussy," he told me as he filled up his shot glasses halfway with the nasty stuff. I was annoyed. No one, and I mean NOONE, got away with calling Stan Marsh a pussy. Kyle knew that. I sat down at the kitchen table with a loud thump.

"Fine dude. You're on."

Kyle beat me. Twice. But that was probably because I wasn't really paying attention to the game. Or maybe because Kyle kicked ass at checkers. I was more interested in watching Kyle becoming increasingly drunk. He told me how his mom was all over him the minute he got in the door, and how his brother attacked him much like how Bebe did, except not sexually, and how he wouldn't let go of him for a full two hours. I laughed the whole time.

Kyle jumped me. I took the jumped glass and downed it.

"Hey, do you know what's kinda funny?"

"What?"

"I drove the whole way here, a two day's drive without sleeping at all! I musta had, like, 50 coffees or something!" he exaggerated.

"Dude!" I exclaimed, laughing. "So you're here right now and haven't slept for two days?"

"Three, actually. I pulled an all-nighter the night before for my last exam." My eyes bulged.

"Dude, you're totally gonna kill yourself if you keep doin' that. I mean, SHIT! I can't even function without like 8 hours a night!"

"Yeah, me neither. I'm kinda beyond functioning at this point."

I raised my eyebrows. What the hell?

"Care for another game?" he asked me. I grinned.

"You know it."

We somehow ended up on the carpet in the living room, rolling around laughing. Don't ask me how.

I gazed at Kyle through bleary eyes. "Dude, I think all we do when we're drunk is laugh," I told him.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "So?" _Goddamnit Kyle, stop doing that!_ Okay, so apparently alcohol hadn't stopped my brain from jacking off.

I saw Cartman come up behind Kyle and tap him on the shoulder. Kyle turned around and stood up, as did I.

"FATASS!" he roared at Cartman. Apparently he had forgotten that he didn't like Eric, because he tried to hug him. Cartman pushed his away, protecting the camcorder he held in his hand. Kyle fell back into me, causing me to lose my balance and topple to the ground, with Kyle on top of me.

Kyle on top of me.

Brain, STOP IT! That is ENOUGH!

I pushed Kyle off of me and stood up again.

"Watch it Jew, don't want my camcorder broken," Cartman slurred.

"What are you using that for?" Kyle asked. Apparently alcohol made Kyle stupider. Or was that just the lack of sleep?

"What do you think dumbass? I'm makin' a movie outta this kick ass party! This is gonna be hella sweet to watch later!" I saw an idea spark in Kyle's mind. Uh oh.

"Hey Cartman, is that thing recording right now?" he asked.

Cartman blinked. "Yeah, why?"

Before anyone had time to react, Kyle had turned around, bent over and pulled down his pants, exposing his ass. Since I was standing behind him, if I looked into the camcorder lens, I could almost see it –

I could feel my face contorting in horror! Ew! My god! I really don't need to see that Kyle! However, after looking at Cartman's face, how could I help but crack up laughing. He looked like he was gonna hurl.

"Ew, Jew boy that is nasty! I'm editing that out just so you know!" he screamed. I collapsed on the floor laughing, Kyle beside me.

A few moments later, I saw Wendy entering the room, followed by Bebe, Red, and a few other girls. They were all giggling, pushing Wendy forwards, who looked like she was about to say something.

_Good thing Bebe wasn't here earlier. She might have passed out at the excitement of seeing Kyle's ass._ I chuckled.

Wendy stepped forwards.

"Who wants to play spin the bottle?" she shouted out. I laughed.

"Dude, that game is so grade school!" I informed her.

She looked at me calmly. "So?"

I thought this over. "Good point. I'm in."

Wendy looked over to Kyle, who agreed as well.

I saw Craig and Clyde all agree to the game too, as well as a few others.

"Alright, whoever wants to play, come meet us upstairs in Stan's room." Wait, why my room? Too late. She was already halfway up the stairs. I resentfully followed her, followed by Kyle.

Wow. I hadn't realized how drunk I was until I saw how heavily I was leaning on the railing of the stairs.

"Dude, I'm going to be so hungover tomorrow," Kyle said, voicing my thoughts.

"Yeah, me too," I agreed.

I followed Wendy into my room, where several people were already seated. I noticed Kenny. No way would he find an excuse to kiss anyone, male OR female. The perv. We all sat around, waiting for someone to speak.

"Shit. We need a bottle," Bebe said. "Where can we get a bottle?" I looked around, noticing several empty ones littered all over my room. I smirked.

Wendy rolled her eyes at Bebe. "Hmmm, let's see. Where can we get a bottle? Bebe, you're holding an empty bottle right now." I laughed at Bebe, along with a few others. She looked clearly embarrassed, but got over it fast.

"Right. Alright, well since I've got the bottle, I'll go first. Hmm, who would like to kiss me?" She batted her eyelashes resting on Kyle, who shifted uneasily.

I heard from Bebe two years ago that if you thought about the person you wanted it to land on while you spun, it would land on them. Apparently it worked, at least for her, because it landed on Kyle.

Kyle looked unamused, but regardless, leant across the circle quickly to kiss her quickly and firmly on the lips. It must have lasted half a second. Bebe looked disappointed, but passed the bottle on to Wendy, nonetheless.

Wendy spun, landing on Clyde. She flashed an apologetic look to Token. He shrugged and winked at her. I assumed they were still dating.

Even I was surprised when Clyde practically leapt across the circle to Wendy. He kissed her hard – I winced thinking that must be painful – and then he backed off. Wendy looked shocked, Token looked ready to kill Clyde. Wendy looked shocked at Craig, who had just flipped her off. Craig then proceeded to glare at Clyde, and Clyde, seeing Craig's anger, looked down at his feet.

Okay. What just happened there?

A few more turns passed, and eventually the bottle came to me. I spun it, and it landed on... myself.

I blinked, confused.

"Ooooh, now Stan has to kiss himself!" Bebe announced.

"Dumb bitch, how the hell is he supposed to do that?" Craig demanded, flipping her off. I agreed with him.

"Spin it again Stan," Wendy directed me. As I spun it, I saw Craig grab Clyde by the arm and drag him out of the room. No one else seemed to notice though.

It landed on myself again.

"'K, what the fuck?" I demanded, glaring down at the offending bottle.

"Keep spinning it until you get someone else," Wendy told him.

I spun it two more times. They both landed on myself. I looked up to notice everyone was laughing. Goddamnit.

I decided to try to use Bebe's trick. I glared down at the bottle. There was no way this would work. Just to prove it, I thought about Kyle and spun the bottle. So there to your theories, Bebe! Hah!

But this time, it didn't land on me.

This time it landed on Kyle.

Okay, I will never question Bebe's theories again.

The entire circled oooohed at us. I just looked at the bottle. I felt faint.

Somewhere I heard Kyle's voice. "That can't be right. Spin it again Stan." I gratefully reached out to spin the bottle, only to be slapped away by Red.

"Ah, ah, ah!" she said. "What the bottle says, goes."

This can't be happening. "Kyle's a guy." How could they not understand that?

"Nice observation, Captain Obvious," Wendy said.

They can't really expect us to do this.

I felt Kyle peck me on the cheek, looking for an easy way out.

"Nice try Kyle!" Bebe giggled. "It has to be a real one, on the mouth."

No way. This is cruel.

I looked at how Kyle was taking this. His face had turned the colour of his hair, and he was determinedly looking at his socks.

There was no way outta this. I had never really contemplated what kissing Kyle would be like, not since the eighth grade, when I had a minor crush on him that lasted a grand total of a week. Now that I was being faced with it, I wanted every excuse possible to not do it. But there was no escape.

I grimaced. "So we really have to do this eh?" I asked the group, praying they would shout out 'Surprise! We got you Stan!'

No such luck.

I grabbed Kyle's chin lightly and pushed his face away from looking at his socks. He scrunched his eyes tightly. He looked terrified. He seem to be feeling the same way I was about this then.

It meant nothing, I convinced myself.

"I'm sorry dude, but they're not going to let us go without doing this." I took a deep breath, then gulped.

I leaned in quickly and planted my lips firmly onto his. I heard his gasp a little. A warmth spread through my whole body. I was in ecstacy.

Was he kissing me back?

No. This is Kyle.

Shit! This is KYLE!

I broke away from him quickly, in horror of what I had just done. Kyle was looking at me, his mouth open and his face paled. I blushed, embarrassed, and muttered an apology to him.

Everyone was staring at me.

Finally Bebe spoke. "Damn, Stan! That was fucking hot! Kiss me next!"

"No, me!" another girl shouted.

I could still taste Kyle on my lips as I bit them, but otherwise felt relieved. I smirked at the girls. "Ah, ah, ah, what the bottle says, goes." I used their line on them. "You'll have to see if you land on me."

Kyle rolled his eyes at me. He probably thought I was a flirt.

The game continued on for a while. The funniest part was when Token had to kiss Cartman – they both looked nauseous afterwards. Was that how I looked?

I kissed two girls before I realized I really, REALLY had to pee. So I excused myself in search of the bathroom. As I stepped outside, I could hear two guys yelling at each other. It was Craig and Clyde. They hadn't even noticed me.

"The fuck was that?" Craig yelled at Clyde.

"Dude, chill out! It was just a game!"

"You fucking JUMPED her! I mean goddamn! Why didn't you just bed her right there!"

"You know I wouldn't have done that!"

"Oh do I? Fuck you Clyde!" Craig started to storm downstairs, but Clyde caught him, turned him around viciously, and planted a huge kiss on him.

Dude! Are they ….together?

They broke apart. I could barely hear Clyde whisper, "You know I only love you."

Having seen more than enough homosexual scenarios for the evening, I continued walking to the bathroom. I did my business, then decided I'd had enough of spin the bottle and went back downstairs. Me and Kenny talked about nothing for a while. I was amazed he could still talk – by the looks of it he could barely walk anymore.

Around 1:00 am the spin the bottle game broke up. Kyle ran back downstairs, a look of horror on his face. He spotted me.

"Dude! How could you ditch me like that! After you left, they tried to make me kiss CARTMAN!" He twitched.

"Did you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Fuck no! I said fuck this game and I left!"

I laughed. "Do you realize if you had, Cartman would have had the most guy-on-guy action tonight, between you and Token?"

"If I had kissed Cartman, we would have been tied 2-2."

Right. Aaaand I'm a dumbass.

Kenny became interested. "And who DID you kiss?" he inquired.

Kyle was about to respond when Bebe came over running, sitting in his lap.

"Hey baby, remember you said we would talk later?"

Kyle groaned. _That's what you get for promising girls shit_ I thought.

"Bebe, can't you leave me alone?"

"Damn Kyle, when you kissed Stan, I got soo turned on," she stated.

Kenny's eyebrows raised.

"STAN kissed ME!" Kyle protested.

Kenny turned his glance to me.

"I always knew you were kinda funny, Marsh."

"Ugh, Kenny! They MADE us do it! We didn't have a choice!"

"It's true!" Kyle supported.

Kyle still looked like he didn't believe me.

"Dude! I have a GIRLFRIEND!" I shouted at him, becoming annoyed.

"Sure, keep telling yourself that."

"I have a picture of her!" I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket. I showed him a picture of Mandy and I kissing. I had holding her with one arm and the camera with the other.

"She could be your long lost sister."

"Dude! I'm KISSING her!"

"Incest."

"Ew! That's fucking sick Kenny!"

"Hey if I had a sister that looked that like, I'd hop her in a sec!"

Kyle looked grossed out beyond belief. "Ew! Kenny!"

"What? I'm just saying!"

"Kenny, here. Have another drink." I passed Kenny a beer in an attempt to shut him up.

"No man, I'm done. I'm totally wasted. Any more and I'll be blowing chunks all over your bathroom!"

"Oh God Kenny, can you just shut the hell up?"

"Dude! Calm down Stan! You need to chill! Deep breath!"

I closed my eyes, willing myself to calm down. _Woah Marsh. It's not a big deal. Kenny's always been like that._

Bebe rolled her eyes at us. "You guys are so sick! I'm outta here!" She stood up in a way so that her ass would rub into Kyle's groin.

"Bye, Kyle," she whispered seductively, winking at him.

The second she was out of sight, he leaned back and closed his eyes, sighing.

"Why the hell can't she just leave me alone?"

"She's too damn horny to leave you alone," Kenny explained. I agreed with him.

"You should just go out with her and then you can both satisfy your perverted wishes," I told Kenny.

"What? And tie myself down with one woman? In your dreams, man!"

I laughed and shook my head.

"Kenny, dude, you're hopeless."

Kenny winked at me. "And you like it that way."

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	6. Kyle's Sobering Solution KPOV

Since only one person responded to my contest, I am leaving it open for another chapter.

The contest: The person who tells me the best alibi to get your parents out of the house for the night that involves a calculator, chicken pox and the end of the world, will be rewarded greatly!

Hooray for chapter 6! Sorry it took a while – I have a full time job now so I don't have as much time for writing and the like. My deviantart page has gone neglected… tears.

Sooooo enjoy chapter 6! Don't forget to review if you read.

Oh and one more note! Thank you all for 1000+ pageviews!

Chapter Six – Kyle's Super Ultra Mega Sobering Solution 2006 – KPOV

The party ended when Stan's sister got home around 2 am. Shelly had gone up to her room to discover two very guilty-looking males ravishing each other on her bed.

Statistics have shown that Shelly's roar caused a sonic boom and deafened everyone within a 200-mile radius.

After she had proceeded to beat both Craig AND Clyde into a pulp (who would have thought she could take two guys?), she ran screaming through the house that if everyone didn't leave immediately, she would call the cops.

Of course, anyone mentioning cops at an underage drinking fest caused a panic. The house was clear in about five minutes, save for me, Stan, and Kenny who was passed out behind the couch.

After everyone had left, Shelly turned to Stan. I winced for Stan's sake. Shelly hadn't exactly been the most forgiving sister in the past.

"What the FUCK were you thinking, letting two gay kids screw around on my bed?" she roared at Stan. Stan blinked once, then twice.

"What do you mean, let them?" he asked, annoyed. "You think they came up to me and ASKED me, 'hey Stan, do you mind if we FUCK EACH OTHER BLIND on your sister's bed?"

That response earned Stan a black eye. The bruise matched the colour of Stan's now rarely-used hat.

After Shelly had left, I turned to Stan, raising an eyebrow. "Craig and Clyde were doing each other on your sister's bed?"

"Apparently," Stan grumbled.

This got me thinking. "Huh. I never would have thought them to be, you know…"

"Gay?"

"Yeah. That's it. Gay." _Why did saying that word get so awkward all of a sudden?_ I surveyed the room.

"Shit, this place looks like a mess." Stan said.

I winced, looking at all the beer bottles surrounding the room. "My thoughts exactly."

"Do you want to clean this place up now and then maybe watch a movie afterwards?" Stan suggested. "That way I won't have to panic when I have 15 minutes in the morning until mom and dad get home."

"Yeah, sure man. Good idea," I agreed. Stan bent over and tried to pick up a mostly empty vodka bottle. He accidentally knocked it over and spilled a few dribbles on the carpet.

"Shit!"

"Dude, the stuff's clear," I consoled. "It won't stain or anything." Stan blushed from embarrassment. I think.

"Yeah, right," he mumbled. He righted the bottle, and starting collecting bottles, as did I. This took a good twenty minutes, as we kept knocking them over and piling them in the wrong places. After that time period, we had about twenty groups of one or two bottles all over the room.

I smacked my head. Duh. We were still drunk. No freakin' wonder this was so difficult. We hadn't even touched the other rooms yet. If we wanted to actually make some progress here, we needed to sober up. Fast.

"Dude, we're too drunk to do anything," I informed Stan as he knocked over his eighth bottle, exclaiming 'Shit!' once more.

I was struck with an idea. Stan looked over, seeing the mischievous grin on my face.

"What?" he asked me, curious.

"I know how we can sober up."

"Oh?" Stan became interested.

"Yes. This situation calls for my classic homemade remedy of drunk-en-ness-be-gone-fo'-shizzle-"

Stan interrupted me. "You're just making this up right now, aren't you?"

He hit it right on, but I pretended that I hadn't heard him. "Marsh, get your sorry ass into the kitchen. You are about to witness the makings of greatness. The making of yours truly's Super Ultra Mega Sobering Solution 2006."

"Kyle's Super Ultra Mega Sobering Solution 2006?" I nodded gleefully. "Dude. Isn't it totally redundant to say Super Ultra and Mega in the same title? Plus what's so special about 2006?"

I batted my lashes at him playfully, and talked in a valley girl voice. "Thilly boy. What'th tho thpecial about 2006? Why, ith it not the year that we can almost drink legally?"

"Almost the year accounts for nothing. It won't be till 2007 till we can drink legally," he stated.

I frowned at him. "Just trust me dude. THIS year is special because I said so, and noone is gonna take that away from me! NOONE!" I pretended to become hysterical, covering my eyes with my hands.

Stan got the cue. "Well maybe I wanna take that away from you, huh? Ever think about that? It's not always about you Kyle!"

I pretended to sob. "It's never about me, Stanley! You always treat me like I'm your little bitch!"

"Well maybe you are my little bitch. My little Kylie bitch!"

"Fuck you! You know what? I won't be your little bitch anymore! You know what I'm gonna do?" Stan shook his head, trying hard not to laugh.

I walked towards him until I was inches away. I stood on my toes, giving me the height advantage. I leaned over and whispered into his ear:

"I'm gonna come into your room in the middle of the night, and I'm gonna fuckin' rape you. Who's the little bitch then?"

I looked down at Stan, who couldn't take it anymore. He collapsed against me laughing, catching me off balance. I fell backwards and landed on the floor, with Stan on top of me, facing me. His face was red from laughing, and I found that I was laughing too. We stayed like that, laughing into each other, for a good few minutes. After that, I became aware that Stan was on top of me.

It felt good.

Just as Stan was pulling himself off of me, Kenny walked by. Apparently he had woken up from his unconscious state.

"Ugh! Dude!" he said. "Give it a break, will you?"

Stan leapt away from me, as though I was diseased. It shouldn't have bothered me, but it did. _I would have done the same_, I reasoned with myself.

"Dude!" Stan exclaimed, groping for excuses. "I just… fell…" he ended, realizing how lame it sounded.

"Suuuuure. You just 'fell' right onto Kyle."

I tried to support Stan. "It's true! I told him I was gonna rape him…" Kenny's eyes grew wide. _Fuck, _Kyle thought. That sounded REALLY bad.

"We were just fucking around Ken!" I exclaimed.

"I'll bet you were just 'fucking around', Kyle."

"Dude!" Stan protested.

"You twooooo are inn lurrrrrrve-" he started to purr, but was interrupted when a nauseous look consumed his face.

"Bathroom's down the hall on the right!" I told Ken quickly, knowing what was going to happen.

Kenny gave me a thumbs up before making a run for it. Kenny always drank too much.

"He better not get anything on the carpet," Stan grumbled.

A moment of silence passed.

"What were we doing?" I scratched my head, trying to remember. I fought to pay attention – I was starting to feel the lack of sleep affecting me. It was usually like this – I'd be fine for a while, but when the fatigue DID hit me, it would be fast and unforgiving.

I heard Stan talking. "Your sobering cure."

"Right." I swayed a little, and Stan looked concerned.

"You all right dude?"

"Yeah. The lack of sleep is just starting to affect me, that's all."

"You should lie down for a while. I can clean up by myself."

I shook my head. "No. That wouldn't be fair to you. PLUS we still gotta make the sobering cure. I'll be fine after that."

"But-"

"I'll be fine," I said firmly. I looked around the room and found the cupboard where the Marshes kept their blender. Years of staying over at Stan's house led me to know it just as well as I knew my own, if not better. I pulled the blender out and placed it on the table.

"It's like a smoothie?"

"Yeah. It's just like a smoothie," I improvised.

"So how do we make it?"

I pondered this. "Get everything with caffeine, sugar, or energizing power of some sort out of the cupboards."

Stan raised his eyebrows. "You've never done this before, have you?"

"No," I admitted. "But there's always time for experimentation." I looked into the fridge, pulling out a Gatorade and a red bull. "Here's a start." I poured half the Gatorade and then half the Red Bull into the blender. Knowing Stan didn't like Red Bull, I chucked him the half-empty Gatorade bottle and raised the Red Bull in a toast.

"Cheers," I said before chugging the last of the Red Bull.

"Dude, that stuff is gonna give you a heart attack one day."

"Maybe so, but at least it keeps me awake and going." I could feel the caffeine starting to run through my veins. Ahhh. Nothing like forced awareness.

I raised my hand up to my face to adjust my glasses. Only they weren't there.

"Dude, did I come here with my glasses?" I asked Stan, straining to remember.

Stan scratched his head. "Yeah. I think you did."

"Do you remember where I left them?"

Stan glanced around. He located them on the table. "Here, dude." He passed them to me. I immediately put them on and felt my vision adjust slightly. "Hah. I thought it was more than my drunken state that was making me see poorly!"

Stan cast a glance at the contents of the blender. The blue Gatorade and mashed together with the red bull to create a dark purpley colour.

"Dude, that is so sick," he stated.

The refound energy from the Red Bull let me return back to my normal self, at least for a little while. "And we're just getting started," I said, grinning like a maniac.

Stan looked at me. "You look insane dude."

"Maybe I am." I wandered over to the cupboard and found a Power Bar. Unwrapping it, I dropped the full thing into the blender. Stan looked nauseous.

"Come on dude, help me!" I prodded. "You got any coffee beans?"

"You're going to put coffee beans in there?" He made a face.

"Duh. Coffee beans always help!"

"We don't have any, just that powder stuff. But we have chocolate covered coffee beans."

"Perfect! It will be a chocolate sobering cure!"

Stan looked at the mess with his eyebrows raised. "I don't think that's gonna taste like chocolate."

"Whatever dude, chocolate coffee beans go in." I located them and put and handful in.

Stan was starting to get into it. "Bread helps!" he announced, pulling out a slice of bread.

"It does! Throw it in!"

He obliged.

"Oranges help!" I decided, and peeled an orange and put it in.

"Vanilla for flavouring!"

"Rice Krispies for crispness!"

"Ice for coldness!"

"Mayonnaise because it's a good condiment!"

"Ketchup because it's a better condiment!"

"An egg!"

"Why an egg?"

"Because it's cliché!"

"Oh. Alright then."

"Gummi worms because of sugar!"

"Leftover pizza because I said so!" Stan ended with a flourish.

"Alright now let's blend it up!" I announced. I plugged it in and Stan placed on the lid. Stan pushed the button to blend.

It took a good five minutes until most of the chunks were running smooth. When we were finished, it was a big, gloppy mess with bits of orange, gummy worms, pizza, and everything else in. It looked like it needed to be chewed. The colour was light brown.

Stan took one look at it and turned slightly green.

"Glasses," he murmured and pulled two large glasses out of the cupboard.

I poured the chunky mess into the two glasses. The last fell out with a sickening squelch.

Stan looked at me. "Are we actually going to drink this?"

I took a look at it. "That was the intent." I poked it, and I swear to God, it giggled.

"…You go first," Stan said.

"You pussy," I said. I raised the glass to my lips. It smelled disgusting. It looked disgusting. I took a big gulp and swallowed fast. I quickly pressed a hand against my stomach to stop it from coming back up immediately.

It tasted disgusting.

Grimacing, I forced a smile at Stan. "It's… not bad," I managed to say.

"Liar."

"Whatever. You take a gulp."

Stan grimaced, but did so. His face immediately turned green with nausea, and I actually thought we was going to be sick.

"Come on Stan! Take it like a man! Hold it down!" I cheered for him. He managed to keep it down.

He shuddered. "Fucking sick dude."

The next twenty minutes were spent force-feeding ourselves the vile drink. After that, we sat around for ten minutes, trying to keep it down.

After a little while longer, I felt the nausea pass.

"How you feelin' dude?" I asked Stan.

"Never again, dude. Never again." He moaned.

"How you feelin'?" I repeated.

"Better," he admitted.

"Aha! My sobering solution works!"

"I'd rather have a hangover than drink that shit again."

"Yeah. Me too," I admitted.

We spent the next ten minutes walking around. Once we could both walk in a relatively straight line again, we started to clean up. The mess wasn't too bad actually. It was mostly empty beer bottles lying around. No one had puked on the floor anywhere thankfully, but Kenny had passed out again on the toilet seat. I rolled him into the Bacchus position before we continued cleaning. Shelly had kicked all the bottles that were in her room out, and we could hear her snoring loudly from within.

It took us a good two hours to finish cleaning. By that point, it was 5 am and I was about to pass out on the floor from exhaustion. Me and Stan wordlessly sat on the couch. Stan brought in a bunch of blankets and he put in a movie. He covered ourselves in the blankets and got comfortable on his big couch. I sat at one end, Stan at the other.

The warmth and heat were hitting me really fast. I felt myself start to fall asleep, falling over sideways onto Stan. He didn't seem to care, and I closed my eyes. I was asleep within minutes.

The last thing I remember saying was "Goodnight Marsh."

The last thing I remember hearing was "Goodnight Broflovski."

- End Chapter 6

Aw how cute! Sorry it's a little bit shorter than the last chapter!

Now if you all don't mind, leave a review! PLEASE!


	7. Natural SPOV

So this chapter is coming way faster than the other ones have – probably because I have lots of ideas and I'm totally inspired right now.

Meh. Thank you all for reviewing, and one more note! Enter contest now, or it will be too late! I need a winner for the next chapter!

So do it!

The story's going to change a little now, but in a good way. It's going to start picking up the pace, some 'fluff' as you people like to call it will start to sprout… much to the delight of several of you I'm sure glares accusingly

Oh! And important! I made a quick sketch of deviantart of the beginning of this chapter! Since it relates to the story, you should all check it out! It's nothing special, just a quick sketch. Link:

(http/ here is chapter 7! Enjoy all!

Chapter 7 – Natural – SPOV

I woke up some hours later to discover the TV was still on, displaying a blank blue screen, indicating the movie had ended. It was fairly bright out – I checked my watch. As my blurry vision focused, the numbers 8:18 became clear. I have only been asleep maybe three hours and was still exhausted. I could feel the beginnings of a headache starting – ah, the joy of hangovers, I thought to myself. I tried to roll over and go back to sleep.

But I couldn't due to the dead weight on top of me. I opened my eyes again to see what it was.

Kyle was lying partially on top of me, head resting on my chest. Or rather, the blankets on my chest. There had to be like three of them, lying haphazardly, separating our bodies. His legs were too long for the couch and drifted over the edge. One arm fell over the edge of the sofa, almost brushing the floor. His cheek was pressed against me, causing it to squish slightly, and his glasses were askew. Apparently sometime in the night I had rolled onto my back on the couch. This was the accidental result.

I smiled at him sympathetically as I took his glasses off his face (he wouldn't be too happy if they broke) and placed them on the small table next to the couch. He didn't stir. _Poor guy. He overworks himself so much._ I felt a twang of something for him then, probably pity or sympathy.

I adjusted my position slightly. Kyle was totally out of it. If I hadn't slept for almost four nights, I wouldn't wake up until the next day. I wouldn't be surprised if Kyle did the same.

I watched Kyle silently for a while, hearing his peaceful breaths and feeling our bodies breathing in and out in perfect synchronization. Kyle wasn't crushing me or anything – he felt more like another blanket on top of me. While we were about the same height, Kyle had a slighter build, and I was more muscular.

I wondered if I should be weirded out or feel uncomfortable with the fact that my best friend was practically lying on top of me. Because the truth of the matter was that I wasn't. Kyle's body was keeping me warm, and it felt nice, like someone trusted me. God knows my so-called girlfriend didn't…

Kyle didn't feel like a girl. He felt like a guy, and I liked that for some strange reason. I suddenly wished there weren't all those blankets separating us. This confused me. I wasn't bi, I had never been attracted to a guy in my entire life…

… before.

My God, am I attracted to my best friend?

I tried to push the unwanted thought out of my head, but I couldn't. Maybe it was just the way our bodies were built, but it felt like we kinda 'fit' into each other, if you will. Like we were two pieces of a puzzle. Kyle's chest sloped into me at the exact place where my stomach started to slope away…

I couldn't shake this feeling. I'm not sure how to even describe it.

Natural, I guess. Yeah, that's it.

It felt… natural.

Natural was an odd implication in this situation. Natural implied normal. It was normal for a guy to like a girl. What I was feeling right now, if it was what I think it was, was not normal.

But then again, it could be just the random events that unfolded last night entangled with the juxtaposition of our bodies right now.

My attention drifted towards Kyle's hair, a brilliant red colour. It was sticking out at odd angles, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing and waking him. I wondered if that's what my hair looked like too…

His hair looked soft. I had the sudden urge to touch it – although Kyle hated his curls, I had always loved them. I reached out a hand and gently placed it on Kyle's head. His hair was soft beneath it. I picked up a curl, pulled it away, then let go. It immediately sprung back into its' disheveled place.

This amused me for a good while, and then I felt sleep starting to set back in. I yawned, stretching my hands up into the air. I let them fall. One went off the couch like Kyle's, the other one ended up curling around Kyle's back.

My God. My arm fit into him too.

How could I not have noticed this before?

I seriously considered drawing my hand back, afraid of what people would assume if they walked in on us. In the end, I left it, because after all, KYLE was lying on top of ME, so which one was more suspicious? Kyle would be the one to take the crap.

Not like anyone would give him crap though. Kyle was the straightest person I knew. I mean, I don't recall him ever having a serious girlfriend, but so what? It was just the way he acted. I could tell. Kyle gave off a distinctive aura of heterosexuality.

So what about me then? Was eighth grade coming back to haunt me? Or was it just the 'heat of the moment', as so called. I chose the latter, more reassured with it than the other, and allowed myself to fall back into sweet unconsciousness.

I could swear I saw a smile flicker briefly across Kyle's face…

CLICK!

I jumped about ten feet into the air, causing Kyle's head to snap back. He moaned, eyes still closed.

"What the fuck Stan?" he complained.

I was too busy occupying myself with my eyes, which felt like they were on fire. I rubbed them with my hands. It didn't help that I had a killer headache either.

"Alright, who's the smartass?" I demanded, expecting Kenny. I opened my eyes, revealing my mother. She was smiling, and holding a camera.

The fuck?

"What the hell?" I asked, frowning at her.

She frowned back for a moment. "Language, Stanley!" But then she smiled again. "You father and I just got back from our date."

I blinked at her. "What time is it?"

Kyle opened his eyes then. They focused on mom. He mumbled something inaudible, then closed his eyes again. All of a sudden, they snapped back open and Kyle jumped away from me, relieving the pressure off my stomach. He fell off the couch, his legs a tangle of blankets.

My mom looked concerned. "Kyle dear, are you alright?" she asked. "It's almost eleven," she answered in response to my question.

"I'm fine," Kyle mumbled, embarrassment showing on his cheeks. The bags under his eyes were bigger than the night before. It must be brutal to not sleep for four days, then get not even six hours on someone else's couch. I immediately felt guilty for waking Kyle so rudely, even if it wasn't my fault. Kyle climbed back onto the couch, sitting in the corner farthest from me. I did the same.

"What's the deal with the camera, mom?" I asked, trying not to sound angry.

She smiled at me again. "Oh, when we got back, we found you two here," indicating me and Kyle, "asleep together on the couch. You two looked so adorable, all cuddled up. It reminded me of when you were eight and had sleepovers. I couldn't help but take a picture."

I immediately felt a cold sensation through me. "Let me see the picture mom."

She showed it to me, but held the camera herself. She knew I'd grab it away, and delete it if I could.

I looked at the picture. Kyle stumbled over to look too. It was one of the most incriminating pictures I had ever seen. I had my arm around Kyle, and Kyle was lying on me chest. My head was tilted backwards off the end of the couch.

"Mom, you've got to delete that," I said, my heart racing.

She looked at me confused. "Why?"

She clearly didn't get it. "Do you have any idea how bad someone could get us for blackmail with that?" I tried to reason with her. _What if Cartman got a hold of it?_ I shuddered and pushed the thought out of my mind.

Mom looked more confused. "How could someone blackmail you with this? It's not like you're doing anything _wrong_," she said.

I shook my head, and was just about to answer it when my dad walked in. "What's all the commotion?" he asked. He bent over mom and looked at the picture. He snickered.

"No offense boys, but that looks really, REALLY gay."

I looked at mom again. "You see? This picture could ruin both our lives!"

"I think you're being too overdramatic, sweetheart. It's just a picture."

"Mom, if you won't delete that, can you at least promise not to show it to anyone?" I begged.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, alright, if it means that much to you both, I won't show it to anyone." She paused and thought for a moment. "Maybe just your mother Kyle… oh she would find this so cute!"

I saw Kyle's eyes go wide with panic. "No!" he exclaimed. My mom liked to pretend she _knew_ Kyle's mom, but the truth was, she didn't. Kyle's mom wouldn't find it amusing or cute, as my mom put it. She'd find it incredibly gay, just like my dad. She'd probably shove Kyle in some sort of institution and try to 'fix him' or something, when really there was nothing to fix. Kyle wasn't gay, and neither was I!

…wasn't I?

"Boys, what IS the big deal here?" my mother demanded, frowning at us both. "You're acting like Kyle's mom would shoot him or something for this!"

Oh, if only she knew.

"Mrs. Marsh," Kyle said, visibly shaken. "You can't show it to my mom. Please promise me you won't," he implored with puppy eyes. How could anyone refuse that face?

My mom considered this for a moment. "Oh, if it really means that much to you Kyle, I won't show your mother," she said slowly. She got up to leave. "Really, you two have no sense of humor." My dad and her left the room.

Kyle breathed out a sigh of relief, and collapsed back onto the couch.

Kenny took this opportune moment to walk in. "Morning lovers!" he announced. "I took the opportunity to sleep on your bed, Stan," he informed me. I grumbled a nothing response.

Kenny glanced over at Kyle, who was falling back asleep again on the couch. "Busy night?" he asked. My defenses went up again.

"Dude, he's just tired because he hasn't slept at like all for four nights," I told Kenny.

"Suuuuuure."

I ignored Kenny. "Dude, you didn't like puke on my bed or anything did you?" I asked Kenny.

"No dude!"

"Alright Kyle, we're moving you to upstairs!"

Kyle protested, saying he could just go home, but I wasn't trusting him alone anywhere just then. I hoisted him up to his feet. He groaned.

"Goddamn Stan, you like broke my neck," he complained, rubbing it with one hand. I felt the guilt again.

"You got any Advil or anything? My head feels like it's on fire," he continued.

"Yeah mine too," Kenny agreed.

My head hurt too, but I wouldn't let them know it. "Alright you pussies, let's go upstairs and get us all some sweet sweet hangover relief."

Kyle snorted a little. "So much for the smoothies," he said.

Kenny raised his eyebrows. "Smoothies?"

"We made hangover smoothies last night," I informed him.

"Ah dude! And I didn't get one?"

"Believe me, you don't WANT one," I told him. "They tasted like vomit, and they didn't even really work that much."

We headed up the stairs and went into my room. Kyle sat down on my bed and immediately fell backwards.

"Hey, you want Advil or not?" I asked him. He groaned and sat back up. I went to get the bottle of it, chucked it to Kenny, who took two pills, then chucked it to Kyle, who did the same. Shortly afterwards he collapsed backwards onto my bed again.

I took two pills, then Kenny and I left the room to let Kyle sleep.

We spent the next five hours cleaning up the smoothie mess from last night, eating various things, and playing video games. Kenny and I were just about equally matched.

Just as I was going in for the kill on Kenny's character, I felt someone grab my shoulders. I turned around, distracting me from the game, causing Kenny to behead my character.

"Aw, dude!" I complained to Kyle. "I was just about to kill Kenny too!"

"You're a bastard," he replied, smirking. The bags were mostly gone now, and the spark was back to his royal blue eyes.

"How you feelin' dude?" Kenny asked Kyle.

"Much better, thanks. Although my neck still kinda hurts," he retorted, looking at me.

"Dude, I'm sorry!"

Kenny looked at us. "What happened now?"

Kyle considered this for a moment. "I fell asleep on top of Stan last night, and his mom took a picture of us, which I guess surprised him or something, because he jerked and nearly wrenched my head off my shoulders."

"It was an accident!" I defended myself.

"So?"

"I said I was sorry!"

"Now, now, now, this simply won't do," Kenny pretended to scold us. "You two shouldn't be fighting. Kiss and make up."

I looked at Kenny, disgusted, but Kyle looked at Kenny much differently, eyes gleaming with revenge for his comment. He turned to me, and before I knew it, his lips were on top of mine once more.

It was much how he kissed Bebe the night before, quick and passionless. I tried not to be disappointed. _What the hell is wrong with me?_

Kyle turned back around, facing Kenny, smirking.

Kenny stared at us dumbfounded. "Oh, oh….wow." he said weakly. "I…I gotta go…to the…bathroom…now."

My face contorted in horror and Kenny left. "Dude! Sick!"

Kyle looked like he felt the same way. "THAT, was not what I intended to cause."

"What WERE you trying to do then?"

"I was just trying to shut him up. So much for that," he said. He hopped over the couch and took Kenny's remote. "Oh well, at least now you get to play with someone more your skill level with this game. You might even get to kick my ass once or twice." He pondered this. "Or not."

"Dude! It's YOU who's ass is about to get kicked!"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah."

"Bring it."

"I already brought it, bitch."

We proceeded to pummel the shit out of each other while Kenny did something incredibly disturbing in the bathroom. Soon I forgot all about Kenny, or my weird feelings towards Kyle. It was just my character versus Kyle's character, and I WOULD reign supreme.

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	8. Fun with MSN KSPOV

South Park – Chapter 8

Well chapter 8 is up! Hurrah! New angle this time! Angle being MSN chapter, basically to introduce Stan's girlfriend and to get some details outta the way. It'll be a little different from the others, enjoy!

Coffeey is the winner of my contest. I was originally going to write her into the story but I have no idea how that'll work and she hasn't responded to me soooooo Coffeey, you win an artwork of any sort whatsoever. It doesn't even have to be South Park if you don't want. But get back to me and let me know what you want, a'ight?

Oh! And the chant that Kyle does later on in his mind – it's an actual chant coined from the one and only university of waterloo. I ripped it off my accounting friends and even though I'm not in math, I enjoy screaming it.

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Chapter 8 – Fun with MSN - KSPOV

I got home around 6 pm that evening. My mom immediately came into the room, scolding me for staying so late at Stan's. Thank God I had told her the night before that I was sleeping over at Stan's, or else she probably would have decapitated my head and stuck it on a spear in a freaky _Lord of the Flies_ reenactment. I liked my head still attached to my shoulders, thank you very much.

"Where have you been all day? I was expecting you home this afternoon!" my mother scolded.

"Sorry, I guess I just lost track of time." Always best way to deal with my mother: become passive and apologize. I learned that over the years.

"Well what were you doing?"

"Playing video games."

Mom rolled her eyes. "Don't you think you're a little too old for that? Of all the _juvenile_ things, Kyle Broflovski!"

"Sorry." _Did I just apologize for playing video games?_

"Don't you remember you promised your brother to take him to his indoor soccer game today?"

_Oh right. _I checked my watch. There was a half hour until the game started. "I'll just take him now."

"You better make sure he doesn't miss a second!" My mother said, narrowing her eyes at me. I guess her happy, 'I'm so glad my son is home' attitude had died down since yesterday.

"He won't," I assured her. I left to find Ike. He was in his room putting on his uniform.

"Hey kid, we're leaving soon," I told him. Ike beamed at me.

"I thought you'd forgotten," he said.

"Forget? Nahhh," I responded confidently, while I brutally beat myself internally. Ike was twelve years old now, and nearly an adult, according to himself anyways. Having entered kindergarten a year early, he would be graduating from the eighth grade this year.

"Finish up and let's go."

----

We came back later that evening, Ike with victory in his eyes. He had scored the winning goal of the game, and his teammates had lifted him up into the air while chanting his name. It was one of the toughest leagues in the division, and Ike couldn't resist but tell me, and everyone else, the exact specifics (exaggerated, of course) as to how he managed this 'near-impossible' feat.

The first thing Ike did when we got home was run straight to mom and dad, to relay his version of what had happened. I was still getting over my exhaustion from three sleepless nights, so I decided to head upstairs and turn in early. As I was going up the stairs, I could hear him saying "So it was me versus all three defense men, plus the two midfielders closing in on me…"

I entered my room and collapsed on my bed. Within moments, I was asleep.

----

I awoke the next day feeling fully rested – a sensation I hadn't felt in a long time. A new, natural source of energy began to replace my previous permanent caffeine buzz, and it felt good. Really good. I felt like doing something. I turned over towards the clock – it read 2:00 pm. I'm surprised my mother didn't come in here at some point in the morning, scolding me for sleeping in so late.

I did the calculation in my head; I had been asleep for about sixteen hours. Dude. It felt good to know that, so I announced it loudly to my room.

"I've been asleep for sixteen hours!" When was the last time I had done that? Probably never.

My attention drifted to my laptop sitting at my desk. I walked over to it, turned it on, then signed into MSN. I spotted Stan's name first, then Kenny's, then Cartmans.

Before I had a chance to start a conversation with Stan, a conversation window popped open with someone I didn't really want to talk to: Bebe Stevens.

(l)Your ass will be mine(f) says:

Hi Kyle!

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Hi.

(l)Your ass will be mine(f) says:

What are you doing?

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Nothing.

_Please leave me alone, please, please._

(l)Your ass will be mine(f) says:

Hee hee you're so cute! What are you doing tonight? We should totally like hang out or something!

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Sorry I'm busy. Anyways, gotta go, ttyl.

BLOCKED!

That was always the best tactic, say you have to go then block the person. That way, Bebe won't know I blocked her, and she won't throw a temper tantrum at me next time I see her.

I became interested now with the orange flashing block at the bottom of my screen.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Hey dude.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

You there?

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Sorry dude, I was busy telling Bebe that I had to go and blocking her.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

What's up?

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Haha that slut just can't leave you alone can she? And not much really.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

I think she'd rape me if she had the chance.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

She'd have to think up a pretty cunning plan to trick Mr. Harvard into sleeping with her.

_Haha. Always with the Mr. Harvard joke. Brilliant._

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Ugh, don't call me that!

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Why not? It's true.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

So what are you doing right now?

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Talking to you.

I smirked.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

No shit dumbass.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Well, actually I just woke up like a few minutes ago.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Haha! Who's the lazy one now?

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Shut up dude! At least it wasn't four o clock!

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

So what's going down tonight?

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Anything and anybody you want darling. ;)

I felt a blush creep to my face at Stan's insinuation. I knew he was teasing, but I somehow couldn't shake the feeling that he was half-serious. I decided to play it right back at him.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Really? Because I _really_ need something to take the stress off of me.

His reply came back quickly:

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Bet I can think of a few things that might do that.

My face went even redder at this. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ I thought to myself. This was Stan. STAN. Stan, my best friend. Stan, the male icon of heterosexuality. Of course he'd been only teasing. But deep down inside, I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed about that. _Dude, this is pretty fucked up right here._ _Wait! That's what Stan says! When have I ever said that? Okay Kyle. Chill out. Way out. Think about other things._

_Pi3.14159_

_Hah._

_SIN! SIN! COS SIN SIN! THREE POINT ONE FOUR ONE FIVE NINE!_

…

_My mind is a strange place._

Before I could type anything else, I got another message from Stan.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

One mo. Mandy's talking to me.

There it was again. The flash of jealousy that oh so prominently showed itself whenever Stan mentioned his girlfriend. I always felt somewhat abandoned whenever he brought her up, which was stupid. Stan was allowed to have girlfriends, as was I. It just hadn't happened for me yet.

I was distracted by a message from Kenny.

#$No woman can resist the Ken factor$# says:

Hey dude, what's shakin'?

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Not much. I have all this pent-up energy now because I slept too much.

_I want to run around and scream. Hah. 'Like a little eight year old.'_

#$No woman can resist the Ken factor$# says:

There's no such thing as sleeping too much.

_Oh really?_

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

I think I discovered it.

#$No woman can resist the Ken factor$# says:

You would, freaking genius.

#$No woman can resist the Ken factor$# says:

So did you sleep over at Stan's last night?

_Blink. _

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

…no, I slept in my own bed. Why would I sleep at Stan's?

#$No woman can resist the Ken factor$# says:

Well, you two seemed to be getting pretty cuddly on his couch after the party.

This sent a rapid flow of memories coursing through my head of that night. Stan, rolling around on the floor and laughing his ass off. Stan, trying to drink that nasty smoothie. Stan, playing with my hair. Stan, wrapping his arm around me.

He had thought I was asleep at the time. I'm sure of that, or else he wouldn't have done any of that. I'm not sure how I ended up on top of him, but it felt really good so I didn't move. I felt our chests rising up and down at the same time and had kept my eyes closed, feeling the movements, basking in the rhythmic motion created by our bodies. And even though this sounds really gay, I enjoyed it. I was startled by Stan's fingers in my hair, but didn't flinch. It felt soothing, in a way. And then his arm dropped haphazardly on me, curling around me, which felt really strange. Like this action suddenly made our current positions very wrong, and we were doing something we shouldn't have been doing.

_I wonder what it would feel like to have Stan's fingers in my hair for an entirely different reason…_

_DUDE!_

Stars of bright light immediately burst before my eyes and I felt a sudden heat rise through my whole body. I tilted my head back in an attempt to be rid of this strange sensation that had suddenly consumed me.

_Think about math! Think about school!_

_Butterflies!_

_Algorithms!_

_Javascript!_

_Error: data entry not found._

_I'm sorry, Mr. Broflovski's brain has apparently shut down for the moment. Please be patient, and thank you for flying Air Canada._

_Fe! Iron! He! Helium!_

_Kroxyldiphivic!_

It took a few moments for the sensation to pass. I couldn't help but release a breathy sigh before opening my eyes again. I stared at the screen, forcing myself to focus on Kenny's words.

#$No woman can resist the Ken factor$# says:

It was almost cute.

#$No woman can resist the Ken factor$# says:

Almost.

#$No woman can resist the Ken factor$# says:

Hello?

#$No woman can resist the Ken factor$# says:

You there?

#$No woman can resist the Ken factor$# says:

Kyle, I know you're totally orgasming over the memories of being on top of Stan, but you have to snap out of it.

_Play it cool._

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Is orgasming even a word?

#$No woman can resist the Ken factor$# says:

It is according to me. And don't change the subject.

I see another orange box pop up at the bottom of the screen.

Soon to be world dominator;) says:

Hey Kyle!

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Yo Wendy. What's up?

Soon to be world dominator;) says:

Not much. Actually I just had a quick question that Bebe wanted me to ask you.

_Oh shit_.

Soon to be world dominator;) says:

Are you blocking her?

_I am innocent. I am a victim._

_I am toast._

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Now, why would I do a thing like that?

Soon to be world dominator;) says:

Because you don't like her.

Soon to be world dominator;) says:

I don't blame you really. I mean, I love the girl and all, but if she was coming onto me like she did to you and Stan, I'd be blocking her too.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

She was hitting on Stan too?

Soon to be world dominator;) says:

Yeah. At the party. Before you got there.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Oh.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Haha.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Could you possibly do me a favour Wendy?

Soon to be world dominator;) says:

Depending.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Could you just tell Bebe that I just went offline on your MSN?

_Please, Wendy. _

Soon to be world dominator;) says:

Alright. Just for you, and just this once

I breathed a sigh of relief.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Thanks Wendy. I owe you.

Soon to be world dominator;) says:

You better believe it ;)

Soon to be world dominator;) says:

Toodles.

-------

I regretfully stared at the screen in front of me. Mandy was, once again, pissed off at me. And over nothing too! That girl had the uncanny ability to make a big deal out of nothing. Why does she always play me out to be the cheater, like I'm doing something wrong?

Our conversation went something like this:

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! Says:

Hi honey!

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Hey Mandy. What's up.

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! Says:

I miss you.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

I miss you too.

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! Says:

I miss you more (k)

_Oh god. Not the stupid coochie-coo games. Barf._

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! Says:

What have you been up to?

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Not much. Sleeping. I had a minor get-together with a few friends the other night.

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! Says:

Oh yeah? Who came?

_Here starts the jealousy. _

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Some friends from high school.

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! Says:

No really. 8-) Give me some names.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Um, well, my best friend Kyle, Cartman, Kenny, Wendy, Bebe, Craig, I dunno, a whole bunch of others.

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! Says:

How do you know Wendy and Bebe.

_Did I not already say that?_

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

I know them from high school.

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! Says:

Why the hell are you always so difficult to talk to?

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

How am I difficult to talk to? I know them from high school! That's all!

If I told her Wendy and I used to be an item, she'd totally spazz!

Okay, now time for her to switch to a different tactic.

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! Says:

Did you meet any girls at the party?

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

No not really.

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! Says:

What the hell is that supposed to mean!

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

It means no, not really. I didn't meet any other girls!

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! Says:

You don't have to get all snippy with me!

_How can you hear snippy on MSN?_

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! Says:

Why aren't I in your name?

_Random._

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

My MSN name? Um… because?

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! Says:

Don't you love me?

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! Says:

I thought you did!

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! Says:

You told me you did!

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! Says:

Does that mean nothing to you?

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! Says:

Huh?

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Mandy, calm down. Of course I love you.

_Actually, I'm starting to have doubts about that._

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! Says:

Calm down? I AM CALM!

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! Says:

You know what Stan? I'm sick and tired of your shit!

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

My shit? What about YOUR shit!

_Bad move._

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! Says:

Fuck you!

Mandy-dandy – Stan's luvah 4 life! has signed off

I shake my head. Dear lord. That girl is going to give herself a seizure one day.

She wasn't always like this. Not when we were first dating. Her previous boyfriend had cheated on her though, so now she freaked out over every little thing. I've pretty much only stuck with her for the past month in hopes she might change back into the cute thing she was before.

Man, I ditched Kyle to get screamed at by my permanently PMSing girlfriend?

I quickly popped our conversation back up.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Sorry dude. I just got bitched out by my girlfriend.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Over what?

_Was it just me, or did Kyle seem to take delight in my relationship problems?_

_Nah. That's just me being weird. _

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Nothing.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Seriously.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Seriously man. Nothing. Mandy's been a severe pain in the ass lately.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Why don't you break up with her then?

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

I don't know. I guess I've been hoping it was only a phase.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Dude, she's been this way for like over a month now, isn't it?

_Damn you and your good memory._

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Yeah I guess.

I suddenly didn't want to talk about Mandy anymore.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

So back to topic. What do you wanna do tonight?

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Iunno. Any good movies out?

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Um… well… the only one I can think of right now is Mission Impossible 3

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

I said good movies. Tom Cruise is such a douche.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

But it's got explosions and car crashes!

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Anything else out?

I check the listings.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Not unless you wanna see a romance or some lame cartoon.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Alright. Fine. MI:3 it is.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Good. It's a date.

_Why did I say that?_

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Oh hoh, a date now is it? Should I get all dressed up in my best outfit? Put on some cologne?

_Ah Kyle. Always the one to see past my stupid remarks._

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

You bet your ass. Maybe we shall partake in a candlelit dinner for two afterwards!

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Under the moonlight.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

I'll pick you a rose.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Dude. No wonder Kenny thinks we're gay.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

I think he's just joking around dude.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Sometimes I wonder about that kid.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

So it says the stupid movie is playing at 8:15 and 10:30. What do you think?

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Meh.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Oh. Wow. Now that's helpful.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

8:15 then dude. There's nothing you can do about it.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

I like the 10:30 better.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Arrrgh fine then.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

I thought you said there was nothing I could do about it!

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

I lied.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

You're far too leniant when it comes to me.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Lenient.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Whatever, Mr. Genius.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Well I'm out. I'll ttyl.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Where are you going?

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Dunno. I have all this energy right now, and I need to get rid of it somehow.

_Bet I can think of a few ways how to do that._

_Woah, dude. My brain is messed up._

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Alright. Well good luck with that.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! Says:

Seeya later.

Marsh – home (Party was freaking awesome) says:

Yep.

Kyle - Happy Christmakwanzuhhah! has signed off

I sign off too. I check my watch. It's 2:30. So I had … eight hours until my date with Kyle. Which would apparently be in formal wear. With dinner under the moonlight.

_I wonder if Kyle would find it funny or be weirded out if I actually followed through with that._

_I'd probably be weirded out._

_Maybe. _

_What am I going to wear?_

_Why am I thinking about what I'm going to wear? Kyle doesn't give a shit what I wear on our date._

_Why am I calling it a date?_

_Because it is. A hot, sexy date._

_God, I sound like Kenny. My mind is not my own lately._

_I wonder what Kyle will wear on our date?_

_Who gives a flying fuck what Kyle wears! And stop calling it a date!_

_Maybe I like the word. Date. Date. Date._

_Maybe you like Kyle._

_Or maybe I just like the word._

_Kyle._

_Date._

_Kyle date._

_On a date with Kyle._

"Alright, that's it! I'm done!" I yell at my walls. I've had enough of this senseless internal battle that means nothing.

_It means something._

"Goddamnit shut the hell up!" I bellow.

"Stanley, who are you talking to?" Shit. My mom heard me. Maybe I'm going insane. Maybe I have a blood clot in my brain.

"Um, no one mom. Sorry."

Pause.

"Well watch your language honey."

"Will do."

_You're going on a date with Kyle, and you LIKE that idea, you sick perv. _

Maybe I AM going insane.

---

Wow! How's that for senseless banter? But I had fun with this one!

Don't you love it when the boys talk to themselves?

Please leave a review! Each one makes me smile!


	9. Movies and Whispers SPOV

Okay, so I have finished doing Coffeey's prize: http/ since the links don't always work, you can go to my deviantart page, and it will be under recent deviations. The link to my deviantart page can be found on my fanfiction user page, or here:

broflovskifan. randomly came up with this picture, then decided randomly to add it into the storyline – so in case you were wondering what came first – the picture or the chapter – it was the picture.

Chapter 9 – Movies and Whispers – SPOV

I spent the next while trying to kill time before I went out with Kyle on our date. I tried watching TV, but nothing good is ever on during the afternoon. I tried to play games on the Internet, but my head wasn't into it. I ended up lying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about nothing, and everything, and Kyle.

Why now? Why did I suddenly have to have feeling for my friend – best friend, in fact. That just makes it worse. I thought it over – 'Stan Marsh likes his male best friend' – so wrong. Just so wrong. Yet how could this be anything else? I can tell by the way my stomach clenches whenever I think about him that I like him – it's the exact way I felt back five years ago.

The one question floating in my mind was if this would be another week long thing, or something longer? Maybe my crush from five years ago never went away. Maybe I just hid it and forced myself to forget because I knew it would never work out. Maybe being deprived of Kyle for four months then suddenly being back with him again reawakened old feeling.

There was no more sense in denying it – I knew it to be true. So what's my next step? I gather up the possibilities:

_I hide it like I did before, and wait for it to fade away_

_I hide it like I did before, and watch the emotions bottle up until I explode_

_I tell Kyle, and he runs away, never to talk to me again_

_I tell Kyle, and he laughs at me then forgets it ever happened and we go back to how we were before_

_I get advice from someone, which will probably screw me up because no one in this town is worth getting advice from_

_Most remote: I tell Kyle, and he confesses is own urges towards me. We then proceed to do who knows what._

I like my last possibility the best. But I can tell you right now – it's not going to happen. It's just not. Best to move on.

The thing is – does this make me gay? I don't think so. Like, I check out girls all the time, and I DO find them attractive. I have never checked out a guy in my entire life – save Kyle – and I have never thought of a guy as being 'hot' or 'sexy' or 'fuckable' and who knows what else.

_I guess I would be bi at best then._

_Hm. Bi doesn't sound like gay._

'_Hello, my name is Stanley Marsh, and I do not prefer the male or female anatomy.'_

_If Kyle was a girl, we totally would have been together years ago._

_I don't want Kyle to be a girl. Haha. Kylie Broflovski. Kelly. Nah. Kyle sounds best. _

I checked my watch. 6:30. Goddamnit. Kyle had called me about an hour ago to offer a drive in Blitzkrieg, his pride and joy. I think he loves that thing more than he loves people. Haha.

What to do now? I figured it's about dinner time, but I wasn't really that hungry.

"Stanley! Dinner time!" I heard my mother's voice. Well, at least making small talk at the table would kill some time. So I sat around, picking at my own food, smiling and answering questions where appropriate. At the end, I volunteered to clean up and therefore keep my mind off of tonight. I think my mother nearly had a heart attack.

So now it's 8 o clock. What the fuck. Could time go any slower? I began to go through my closet, to decide what to wear. I could just wear what I had on now, but I guess it was kinda dirty. Day sweat. So I spent a good half hour, drawing out the time as long as possible, choosing something else to wear. Then I took a shower even though I had one that morning. I almost started putting on Axe, before stopping myself. I recalled what one girl had told me in the eleventh grade ('Don't you hate it when guys drown themselves in that Axe shit? It's enough to gag on!). Okay, no Axe. I chucked it in the garbage. Instead, I focused on screwing around with my hair.

By the time I had finished everything, it was nearly time to go. I sat on the edge of my bed, watching the minutes tick by.

At 9:47 exactly, I heard a horn honk from outside. I felt my stomach tighten

_Jesus, get a grip_, I told myself. _This is just a normal get together with your friend. Completely normal. You do not like him. You are merely friends._

Yeah, right.

The second I stepped out my front door, Kyle turned on his headlights to high beams, nearly blinding me in the process.

"Fuck! What the shit was that?" I demanded, getting into the passenger side. Kyle was laughing hysterically.

"Oh man! The look on your face! Holy shit!" He choked out, gasping.

I shook my head. "You're such an asshole."

"Takes one to know one."

I looked at Kyle. He looked really good tonight. He was wearing a deep green sweater with 'Harvard University' written across the front, and deep brown khakis.

_Goddamn, you look hot._

Okay, I need to stop thinking like that if I want to get through the night.

I was looking plain in a white long-sleeve shirt underneath my famous blue 'Fuck Da Police' shirt, one of mine and Kyle's all time faves. He had the same shirt in brown. It used to be that whenever either of us wore it, we would have to incorporate 'Fuck Da Police' into our conversation. I wondered if Kyle remembered.

Kyle finally stopped laughing at me and flicked the lights back down to low beam. "Well let's get this bitch on the road!" he announced to me. "Let's cruise a chill 80 miles/hour down this residential street."

"But won't the cops flag you down for that?" I asked jokingly.

_Hoh shit. I totally fell for it_.

Kyle grinned at me mischeviously. "Fuck da police."

A grin split across my face before I proceeded to laugh my ass off, doubling over.

"You remembered!" I exclaimed.

"Of course I did. Don't you remember the old saying?"

I looked at him, inquiringly.

"Elephants and Kyle Broflovski never forget."

"Well what about Cartman? He's like the size of an elephant."

"Cartman's bigger than an elephant. Therefore, the rule is void." We both started laughing at this, before Kyle stopped us.

"Okay, okay, seriously. Stop making me laugh. We have to go," he told me.

We spent the five minute drive to the movie theatre (yes, our town is _that_ small) reminiscing over stupid high school memories.

We were not five steps into the movie theatre when I heard a shrill voice screech out

"KYLE!" Bebe Stevens came running over, and grabbed Kyle by the waist, once again nearly knocking him over.

_Oh, for the love of God!_

Judging by the expression on Kyle's face, Bebe, was no different than a leech. I snickered, and Kyle glared at me.

"Bebe, what do you want?" Kyle asked rather rudely while prying the girl off of him.

Bebe pouted. "Well Mr. Meanie-" _Is this girl for real?_ "I just saw you here and I was like – ohmygod! – because you said you were busy tonight!"

Kyle gave her a dirty look. "I am busy – me and Stan are going to see a movie."

"Ohmygod! Really? Me too!" _No shit._ "Which one?"

"MI:3."

Bebe wrinkled her nose. "Ewww why would you want to see that? It's all big and noisy, and all it is is a bunch of things getting blown up! Who wants to see a sucky movie like that?"

"We do," I responded flatly. Bebe glanced over at me, before turning her attention back to Kyle.

"We're-" Bebe said, indicating to a girl waiting impatiently for her by the snack bar "-going to see Over the Hedge."

Kyle raised his eyebrows. "Isn't that, like, a cartoon? For preschoolers?"

Bebe shook her head enthusiastically. "Nuh uh! It's for us too!"

_Wow, what a persuasive argument._

"Anyways, wanna come see it with us? I bet it will be way better than Mission Impossible 3." She said the name of the movie like it was a disease.

"We're good, thanks," I said rather coldly. Bebe ignored me.

"What about you Kyle? Wanna ditch the loser? No offense Stan," she said, looking at me.

"None taken," I forced a smile on my face.

Kyle frowned at Bebe. "I'm quite good thanks," he said monotonously. "You go and have a good time now."

She giggled a little. "If you came I bet we could have more than a good time."

_Holy shit. She just doesn't give up. Time for me to take action. _

"Wellllll, will you look at the time?" I said rather loudly. "Kyle, if we don't get tickets soon, we may not get in to see our movie! We better get in line! Bye Bebe!" I took Kyle by the arm and dragged him over to the ticket booth. Once we were a safe distance away, I muttered to him

"Geez, if you want her to leave you alone, you can't be nice to her!"

Kyle looked at me blankly. "The look of disgust on my face was nice?"

"Bebe's an idiot. The only way she'll leave you alone is if you tell her to fuck off or something."

"I would, but I kinda feel bad for her. I mean, she's so stupid! The only way she's gonna get far in life is if she marries a rich guy."

"So that's going to be you?"

"Ew no! And who says I'm going to be rich?"

"Come on Kyle! You have like Bill Gates' IQ! You're going to be rolling in it one day."

Kyle rolled his eyes, but I saw his face redden slightly. He looked – flattered, almost.

By the time we bought our tickets and got through the concession stands, we only had a few minutes until the movie started. We went to the theatre to find it nearly packed. The only available seats I could see were near the back.

"Dude, the only seats are near the back," Kyle said, stating the obvious.

"Aw, but that's where all the couples go to make out!" I complained.

Kyle turned towards me, and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Ah dude! Sick!" I exclaimed, shutting my eyes tight and turning away, pretending to be disgusted. I didn't want him to see the look in my eyes that would give me away.

"Well, that's where the only seats are, so suck it up, you homophobe."

"Hey! I am NOT a homophobe!" _Where did that come from?_

"Whatever, homophobe. Let's go." So we went to the back of the theatre and took our seats just as the lights started to dim. I made myself comfortable, and prepared myself for staring at the screen before me, and not at the guy beside me.

_This is going to be a long movie._

_---_

It's halfway into the movie, and I am DYING here. The theatre is like a raging inferno it's so hot. I can see the girl sitting next to me wiping her forehead every few minutes. Next to her, there's some guy and girl making out. They don't notice that it's like an oven in here. My palms are sweating.

I wish it was just the temperature in this room that's making me hot. Kyle has been leaning over every few minutes, mocking the movie, Tom Cruise's bad acting, and the physical impossibilities of the stunts. And every time he does that, he leans in to me so close his mouth is inches away from my ear, and I can feel his breath tickle it. And every time he does it, I feel a tingle in my spine that threads its way through my whole body.

No, it's not just the temperature in the room that's making me hot. It definitely has something to do with my best friend sitting next to me.

I have yet to say something intelligent this whole time. Kyle is constantly making witting remarks, and all I've done is smile weakly and nod. I can tell he's frustrated by my lack of participation in the MI:3 bashing. My only hope is to stare at the screen and search for flaws.

Several minutes and three ear-whispers later, I spot my opportunity. Alas! I quickly turn my head around to state my remark.

Unfortunately, Kyle also has thought of something to say and turns his head to face me. The result is that Kyle's lips catch me right between my nose and upper lip.

Even more unfortunately, my first reaction is to jerk upwards, moving the position of Kyle's lips from between my nose and upper lip to right on my mouth.

Even more unfortunately, we both start to say what we were going to say, causing both of our mouths to open, catching us in this awkward somewhat-kiss.

All this happens in about half a second. We stare at each other for a brief moment before backing away simultaneously.

"Dude… I was just-" I start to say.

"Sorry…It's just that-" Kyle says at the same time.

This causes both of us to laugh quietly. Some guy in front of us turns around and rudely shushes us. I flip him off. I turn back to Kyle, and feel the tension between us.

"Dude, I was just going to tell you something," I explain apologetically. I am glad the theatre is dark, as Kyle cannot see how red my face is.

"Yeah, me too," Kyle whispers back, smiling weakly.

"You go first," I whisper to him.

We exchange our remarks, then go back to watching the movie. The tension is relieved, but Kyle doesn't try to talk to me for the rest of the movie, and I don't try to talk to him.

---

"Dude, that movie SUCKED!" Kyle exclaimed as we exited the theatre. He seemed to have forgotten the earlier incident. I, sadly, had not. Nor would I probably ever.

I had to agree with him though. Aside from all the kick-ass car explosions and the like, the movie was totally lame. I told him as much, and Kyle laughed.

"Yeah, the car explosions were pretty sweet, although half of them were scientifically improbable."

"Mr. Harvard goes at it again," I tease him. Kyle frowns at me.

"Goddamnit don't call me that!" He says as we exit the theatre. It's raining.

"Aw shit, I hate the rain. I always slip and fall." This much was true. In the tenth grade, Kyle outsmarted a genie out of an evil wish made by Cartman which included the certain death of Ike. In the genie's last moments of life, it did the most devastating thing it could do with its' fading powers – curse Kyle to forever slip and fall whenever it rained out. Which doesn't sound that bad, but one time during our senior year, he slipped and fell funny, causing him to break his ankle.

I find a solution to Kyle's problem. Acting quickly, I scoop Kyle up, supporting his back with one hand, and his legs with my other. As I walk out into the rain, Kyle looks at me, inquiringly.

"What are you doing?"

"Saving you from the dreaded curse of the rain. You're not walking, therefore you can't slip and fall."

"Wow. That was clever. And obvious. I should have thought of that," he told me.

"Ah, but when there is a damsel in distress, who is there to save him but his night in shining armor?"

Kyle plays his part. He raises his hand to his forehead, as if swooning. "Oh, Mister Marsh! I do believe you may have smitten me with your manly wiles and rugged good looks."

_Heh. I have rugged good looks._

"Ah, but what about my impeccable charm?"

"And your infallible modesty?"

"And my- HEY!" I say, realizing his mockery of me. We reach his car, and I immediately let go of him, causing him to fall on his ass. Kyle glares up at me.

"Ugh, my ass is all wet! So much for the damsel in distress!"

I smirk at him. "The damsel is not supposed to mock his knight."

We get into the car, and Kyle blasts the heat. Damn, South Park winters are cold.

It's slippery on the way back, and Kyle is paying extra attention to the roads, aware of any threats to his Blitzkrieg. This means I can freely look at him without him noticing. He looks really good tonight.

_I should stop staring. He will eventually notice._

I am brought out of my dream state when I feel Kyle hit the breaks hard. A car has swerved out in front of him from the lane over, nearly colliding with the front of his car. Kyle blares the horn and lets out one of the longest stream of obscenities I have ever heard.

"GODDAMNIT, MOTHERFUCKER WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? NO GOOD RAT BASTARD SON OF A BITCH! GO FUCK YOUR MOTHER YOU ASS RAMMING PIECE OF DOG SHIT! GODDAMN YOU ALMOST HIT THE FRONT OF MY FUCKING CAR YOU ASSHOLE! MOTHERFUCKING PIECE OF SHIT I HOPE YOU DIE AND BURN IN HELL FUCKING SHIT HEAD! I-"

I interrupt Kyle's rant in an attempt to calm him down.

"Woah dude, chill. Yeah, the guy's an asshole. But your car is fine. So relax."

Kyle frowned, turning his eyes back to the road, glaring murder. "Goddamn asshole almost hit my car."

I left his to his mutterings, and by the time we got back, he was back to his normal self. When we got back to my house, Kyle for some reason he found it necessary to walk me to my door. Like a real date.

_Stop it Stan, it was not a real date._

Unfortunately, I was not carrying Kyle. After taking a few steps, he slipped on the sidewalk, falling backwards. He grabbed onto my shirt, causing me to fall backwards with him onto the wet snow. I land sideways on him, my hip jabbing into his stomach. This winds Kyle, and he gasps for air as I scramble off of him. He pulled himself into a sitting position, grabbing both my shoulders and leaning onto me.

I try to ignore the fact that our chests are pushed up really close against each others as I ask him 'Dude, are you all right?"

Kyle nods, but maintains a firm grip on my shoulders. After a few moments, he releases me and lets go. I hear maniacal laughing it the distance. I frown. Damn genie.

I pull Kyle up to his feet. "Dude, I'm sorry about that."

Kyle shakes his head, dripping with wet snow. "It's not your fault Stan. It's that GODDAMN GENIE!" He shouts the last part, flipping off the sky with both his hands. The laughter recedes into the distance.

I suddenly become aware that we are both dripping wet and cold.

"Dude come into my house, I can give you a clean pair of clothes," I tell him. Kyle nods and follows me in. We have to be quiet, as it is now nearly one o clock, and both my parents are asleep.

We go up to my room, and Kyle takes off his shirt as I go through my closet looking for a top for him. I make sure that my back is towards him so I don't have to look at his chest. That's the last thing I need right now.

I find a plain red top and give it to him as he takes off his pants, revealing a pair of blue boxers.

_If he takes off his boxers he'd be naked._

_Goddamnit! Stop thinking about that._

_Damn Kyle has such a nice chest._

I ignore my thoughts and toss him the red shirt. He looks at it.

"Dude, I can't wear red. It clashes with my hair."

"Does it matter? You're just going home anyways." It was true though. Kyle wearing red has never been a good idea. He looks like a tomato. He tosses the shirt back to me, and I pull out a blue one. He mutters a thanks before putting it on. I breathe a small sigh of relief. Any longer, and I think a little too much blood may have moved downstream, if you know what I mean. I quickly throw him a pair of pants.

I proceed to take off my top and pants, and go through my stuff looking for a shirt and pants. No luck in my closet. I move over to my drawers, and find something in there. Kyle is watching me with a slightly glazed over expression.

I wave my hand in front of his face. _Is he staring at my chest?_

_Chill Stan. That's probably just your perverted mind filling in the blanks. _

Kyle snaps out of it, and I pull my new top and pants on.

"Heh, dude, sorry. I'm just – kinda tired, that's all," he says.

_Is Kyle blushing?_

_No. Kyle doesn't blush. Ever. It's just your stupid mind._

"Yeah, right," I say.

Kyle coughs. "Well, I better get going, thanks for the shirt."

"Yeah. See ya around," I say.

I walk downstairs with Kyle, and I lock the door behind him when he leaves. I head back upstairs to my room, where I lie on my bed, thinking about the events of the night. I remember our accidental 'kiss', carrying Kyle to his car, Kyle swearing at the driver who almost hit his car, Kyle gasping for air, and Kyle topless.

I have come up with a conclusion, which goes something along these lines:

_Well, that was interesting. _

However, there is one thought plaguing my mind, no matter how ridiculous it seemed. It has to do with how Kyle didn't immediately pull away when our lips touched in the theatre, how Kyle grabbed both of my shoulders when I winded him and how Kyle looked at me with my top off.

_Is there a chance that I could get Kyle to like me too?_

I doubted it. But if there was, I best be discreet about my attempts. I'd never forgive myself if I ruined our lifelong friendship. There is only one piece of advice I can take at a time like this.

_Tread lightly, Stan Marsh. Watch your footing, and tread lightly._

---

Ooh lala! Deny no more!

Update was fast this time! Hurrah to you all!

Leave a review, s'il vous plait!


	10. Holiday Shopping in North Park KPOV

Hooray! It's chapter 10, and I'm on a rrrroll! YEAH! So I'm thinking this story will probably end up being between 15 and 20 chapters – long I know. Plus afterwards, I will probably be making a sequel to this - I already have a million ideas for it haha. But first comes first!

This chapter was REALLY hard for me to write, because I was trying make practically every line awkward and the whole chapter really tense… next chapter everyone will be getting a nice surprise:D

**New contest! And more than one person better enter it, or I'll withhold the next chapter! I'm super serial! So enter!**

**Contest thing: I want to know what Cartman's wish was that Kyle tricked the genie out that resulted in its' demise and therefore saving his little brother Ike's life? Be creative people**

**The Prize is, as always, a fanart of your choice.**

And now the chapter! Leave a review! You'll make me shriek!

A/N: Yes, Code Blue by TSOL is a real song – look them up! Oh, and sorry for the James Blunt bashiness – I needed something good for the boys to make fun of, and the song is so easy to reword. So it worked. Apologies to those who like him. But think about it. Most teenage boys wouldn't like that stuff, so it makes sense. I am trying to avoid making the boys look like over emotional little girls, and that will continue.

-----

Chapter 10 – Holiday Shopping in North Park KPOV

I looked at my clock. 7 am. Aaargh.

I had been tossing and turning ever since I got home from Stan's last night at a little past one. My mind had been running on overload, and I always find that whenever I have a

busy mind I can never fall asleep. This was especially exasperating during university, as I often found I could not fall asleep when I had an assignment due within a week. I either had to do the whole thing right away, staying up all night to do so, or at least jot down all my thoughts on a piece of paper. I often discovered my best ideas for topics and arguments hit me in the middle on the night. For that reason I had taken to keeping a pen and pad of paper beside me as I slept. Once I came up with an idea, and a good one at that, I was so scared of losing it that this was my only available solution. And even then I couldn't always sleep.

I'm such a nerd. And I swear to God, I'm turning into an insomniac too.

At around 3 am I had become increasingly frustrated with myself. So I got up, went to my computer and made an alphabetical list of all the books I needed for next term. I wrote down their codes and prices, and made a miniature budget out of that, factoring in taxes and totals. I repeated this task twice – once for books I could get at the used bookstore, and the second in case I had to buy the book brand new. After that, I went back to bed and fell asleep for an hour. I woke up at five, and have been lying awake in bed since.

I could argue that it was the fact that I had gotten way too much sleep the night before. But I knew it had much more to it than that.

No, this had to do with the way that I almost tried kissing Stan back at his party. We were both inebriated, of course. This had to do with the way that neither me or Stan instantly pulled away when we kissed last night. Total accident, of course.

It had to do with the way that I held onto Stan's shoulders after I was winded last night for a little longer than I knew I needed to. It had to do with the way that I found myself staring at his muscular chest last night when he was topless.

It had to do with the fact that I was still wearing his clothes.

The fact that I could smell his scent on them. The fact that I had no desire to take them off. The fact that I secretly have an urge to keep them and never give them back.

No, I had been lying in bed awake all night because I had become consumed with one thought, and one thought only:

_I think I'm falling for my best friend._

The thought itself was preposterous. Stan and I were both males. Males are supposed to only be attracted to females. They fit together, biologically speaking.

It was one of the most basic instincts of all living things. Eat, kill or be killed, reproduce, die. Males and females reproduce. Males and males don't.

So why was I feeling this way? This horridly wonderful feeling that I never want to let go of was quickly consuming me. I Imagine Stan's reaction:

_Yeah, Stan, I think I like you._

_Um… well I like you too Kyle._

_No. I mean LIKE you, like you._

…

_Runs away_

_End scene_

Ridiculous. This could simply just be because of my lack of success with girls lately, or the fact that I just missed my best friend. I couldn't possibly…. Like him like THAT!

…Couldn't I?

I've been trying to ignore this sensation in the pit of my stomach, but I just won't leave me. It's like a mixture between happiness, nausea, and extreme anxiety, and it grew stronger the more I thought about Stan. I touched the fabric of the shirt and brought it up to my face. It smelled lightly of cologne and it was slightly musty, like dorms rooms did. It smelled like him. Stan.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I rolled onto my side. Stan had looked so good last night. The Fuck da Police shirt was a nice nostalgic touch. Even though the movie sucked, it was nice to hang with my best friend again, whispering stupid remarks about the movie into his ear, watching his reactions…

Damn. I think I really do like him.

…Goddamnit. This CANNOT be good.

If Stan knew, he'd probably never want to talk to me again.

_Okay Kyle. Calm it down. You are taking this waaaay too far. Who says you have to tell Stan? Plus you're not even totally sure if you like him._

Well, at least that last part will be sorted out soon. After all, what could better help me than spending a full day with the person in question?

I pulled Stan's shirt off over my head, and bunched it underneath my head, using it as a pillow.

I fell back asleep breathing in the scent of Stan's shirt.

--

I honked the horn on my car, waiting for Stan to exit his house. It was approximately noon.

Stan and I had developed this routine for the past five years. On December the 22nd at noon we went to North Park to do our holiday shopping. I say holiday because Stan gets his Christmas presents, and I get something for my family for the last day of Hannukah. It's become a bit of a tradition between us if you will. We used to have to take the bus to get there, but now I had a car so it worked out all the better for us. I had already gotten Stan his holiday gift so basically all I had to do was get something for my mom, dad and Ike. And maybe Kenny. But not Cartman. He's an asshole. Besides, I used to get him presents and he never thanked me or got me anything back. So fuck him.

I drummed my steering wheel and listened to the radio as I waited. I honked my horn again, impatient.

I waited another five minutes. I began to feel frustrated. I honked out a tune on the car horn. Twice.

Just as I was about to honk the tune for the third time, I saw a figure approach the window in Stan's room. Sure enough it was Stan. From what I could see, his hair was disheveled and he was wearing a pajama shirt.

Had he just woken up?

Stan cracked open his window, and motioned me to come over. I turned off my car and got out.

"What the fuck dude?" he shouted down at me. Yes. I had just woken him up. Hah. He deserved it though.

"I should ask you the same thing!" I shouted back at him. "Let me ask you something, Stan. What day is it?"

"I dunno."

"Go do me a favour. Check the date, then come back here."

Stan left. After a minute, he reappeared. His expression was a mix of horror and apology.

"Dude. I am so sorry, I totally forgot."

I smirked. "Yeah, I figured that when you came to the window still in your pajamas. Let me remind you that you forgot last year too. Good thing Kyle never forgets," I said, tapping my head, "or your family would have had to do without Christmas presents."

"I am so sorry," he repeated, cheeks darkening slightly, probably from embarrassment. "Come inside while I get dressed. I won't be long, I swear." Stan flashed me an apologetic smile before he closed the window.

The door to his house was unlocked, so I let myself in. I took off my shoes and sat down on the couch in their family room. Just sitting on the couch brought back memories, and I shivered slightly.

Shelley was sitting at the other end of the couch, eating a waffle that sat on a plate on her lap. She took no notice of me, and kept her eyes glued to the television.

"Hello, Shelley," I said, trying to be friendly.

"Shut up turd! The show!" she said, gesturing towards the TV, not taking her eyes off of it for a second. I glanced at the set, and saw she was watching some Tuesday morning television special, guest starring some random celebrity.

So I sat there on the couch, looking at the TV but not really watching it, while I waited for Stan to finish up.

Mrs. Marsh took this opportunity to walk into the room, drying a dish. She saw me and smiled kindly.

"Why Kyle! I didn't know you were here! When did you get here?"

"About five minutes ago, I'm just waiting for Stan, and then we're going to go Christmas shopping."

Mrs. Marsh rolled her eyes at me in a motherly way. "That's my Stanley. Always leaves everything until the last minute. So how are you finding Harvard?" she asked me, changing the subject.

I smiled at her. Stan's mom was so nice, it kind of weirded me out since I was so used to my own mother, who was in fact, quite opposite. Stan's parents were pretty open about stuff, and so was my dad, and even Ike, but my mom. She's a different story. Sure, she preaches open-mindedness and the like, but if it has anything to do with her family, she is totally intolerant.

Which is why she'd butcher me if she found out about these strange feelings I'd been having for my best friend.

Mrs. Marsh gives me a questioning look, and I realize that I've spaced out. What was she asking me again? Oh right. Harvard.

"Uh, sorry. I didn't sleep too well last night," I replied truthfully. "Uh, Harvard's been great. Stressful sure, and a lot of work, but it's a great place."

"Well, I hope my son doesn't hold you up much longer-"

"I'm not holding him up mom." Stan came running down the stairs and skidded to a stop at us. His hair was damp.

"Dude, did you manage to shower too in that time span? Bravo," I said admiringly.

Stan grinned lopsidedly at me. "Shower? What? Nah, I'm just really sweaty."

I made a face. "What? Ew, sick!"

"THE SHOW!" Shelly hollered, turning around to glare at us.

Stan had learned by now to avoid that deathly glare Shelly was giving us. His black eye from two nights ago had almost completely faded by now.

"Alright, well we better get going! Bye mom! See you later!" Stan said, taking my hand and pulling me out the door. He seemed really eager to go. I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through my arm at his touch.

Stan pulled me out the front door, only letting go of my hand when we reached the car. I pulled out my keys, unlocked it, and got in. The radio started playing again.

The second Stan closed the door, he turned to face me. "Dude, I am really sorry."

Why is he being so apologetic? "Dude, don't worry about it. You only made me wait like five minutes anyways. How did you ever manage to shower in that time?"

"I told you, I didn't shower. I'm just a sweaty person."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, if that's true, your sweat smells good. Like REALLY good. Kinda like flowers actually. Did you use your sister's shampoo or something?"

Stan sniffed his arm. "I don't smell anything. Maybe it's just your car or something."

I raised an eyebrow. I grabbed Stan's head and pulled it in towards me. His arms flailed for a moment, before supporting himself with one hand against my chest.

_Holy mother of fuck. I think my kidneys just exploded. _

And just like that, I was wondering what it would be like to kiss him, and for real, not being forced into it or anything.

Trying to ignore my thoughts, I sniffed his head, which sure enough gave off a very flowery smell. It was quite unlike him.

"Nah, dude it's totally you." I released his head, and Stan's took his hand off my chest a moment later. He kinda paused a pit…

_Stop it Kyle. You're just imaging things._

Stan was still trying to deny it. I smirked at him.

"Don't worry Stan, we all get the urge to Herbal sometimes." I pulled out of his driveway and drove down the street.

We continued this senseless banter for a while, until James Blunt came on the radio.

"Dude! That guy sucks ass!" Stan exclaimed.

"Do you think it would kill him to sing in-tune for once?" I chime in.

"Or not let his voice crack whenever he says 'you're beautiful'?"

Stan starts off the song, scrunching up his face, trying to make his voice crack at every possible opportunity.

"My love is sexy-"

"My love is hard-" I add in.

"I saw a young boy-"

"Down by the shore-"

"He smiled when he saw me-"

I snorted. "He was with another man-"

At this, we both cracked up, and it took a moment for us to collect ourselves.

Stan took up the chorus, singing as high pitched and horribly as he could

"You're be-eea-u-t-i-faaaaaaawl, it's trueeeeeee!" he screeched.

I added in "I saw your face, rounding second base-"

Stan finished it. "But it's time to face the truth. Fuck, I think that I'm a fruit!"

We both collapsed laughing at this, and my eyes teared up so much from laughing so hard that I couldn't see properly and almost ran a red light.

"Oh fuck dude, change it! I can't listen to this anymore!" I gasped. My stomach burned from laughing.

"Dude, the radio sucks. Do you have any CDs?" I nodded and motioned towards the compartment in front of him. He opened it and rifled through my CDs. He smiled as he found a burned one with the title "Stan and Kyle's picks, 2004" written roughly on it.

"Dude, you still have this?" he grinned at me.

"Fuck yeah! How could I get rid of that thing?" I laughed as Stan put it in. We spent most of the hour drive up to North Park listening to our own personal favourites from nearly two years ago. Stan roared with approval when Code Blue came on.

"I totally forgot about this song dude! Yes! YES!" He cheered the song, and belted out the lyrics.

"NEVER GOT ALONG WITH THE GIRLS AT MY SCHOOL!"

I quickly joined in, and we both screamed out the lyrics while banging our heads to the beat.

"BUT I LIKE IT BETTER WHEN SHE SMELLS OF FORMALDEHYDE!"

Out of the corner of my eye I saw somebody from the next car over look at us strangely, but I didn't care. Stan turned up the volume louder.

"I WANNA FUCK I WANNA FUCK THE DEAD!"

Stan rolled down the window and stuck his head out, screaming the lyrics at people in the nearby cars at the top of his lungs. One woman looked really freaked out, and I didn't blame her. When Stan turned to face me, he had the air of a delusional person. And my God, it turned me on. Which scared the shit outta me.

By the time the song was over we had screamed ourselves out, and we were both fairly quiet for the rest of the drive.

By the time we got there, our screamed-out silence had turned to awkward silence which had turned to forced conversation about nothing. Truth be told, I didn't have much to say – I mean we talked pretty much every day in university, and now I've spent the past three days with him – and I think he felt the same way. Plus I didn't want to blurt anything out that would sound 'suspicious', if you get my drift.

"I'm hungry," Stan announced as soon as I turned off the car in the mall parking lot. "First stop is the food court."

"You lead the way then," I replied. "I have no idea how to get around this mall."

"You've been here just as many times as I've been here," he told me, tsking me.

"So? I have a shit sense of direction."

"Is that how you managed to drive us here then?"

"Dude, shut up," I said, playfully shoving him on the arm.

At least, it should have been a shove. I changed my mind about halfway through, so what happened is I jerked my arm out rapidly then back in, barely brushing his shoulder at all. Stan, startled by my weird arm twist, jumped about ten feet in the air, causing him to stumble and fall into me. We both plummeted to the snow-covered ground, Stan on top of me. _What was with all the falling lately?_

Before either of us had a chance to react, I irrationally screamed out

"GET OFF OF ME!" Stan immediately jumped off of me, looking shocked at my outburst. I felt my cheeks burn red from embarrassment. _What the hell is this? I never blush._

"Uh… uh… dude, sorry… it's…just that…," I said, looking for an answer. "It's just that you kinda… elbowed me in the ribs!"

Stan's face immediately turned apologetic. "Shit… man I am so sorry…"

I immediately felt guilty. "Dude… don't worry about it… it just… startled me… that's all…" _Okay, there is seriously something wrong with me. When was the last time I had ever paused that much in a sentence? Pretty much never._

We wordlessly wound our way to the food court.

---

And that was the day. Pretty much the most awkward day I have ever experienced in my entire life. It was horrible, I almost wish we had never gone. I might even be scarred for life.

At least one thing was for sure. I totally, without a doubt, like liked Stan.

And this was very, very, very not good.

I pretty much feel like I was entirely responsible for the awkwardness of the entire day, even though I knew this wasn't true. Both of us had been ridiculously jumpy for some reason, and all conversation was ridiculously awkward, no matter the subject. I hope to God that this was just a one-time thing, but something inside of me tells me otherwise. It is the same part of me that is telling me I like Stan in a more-than-friends way.

Maybe it was all my fault…

_Incident 1_

"Huh, dude, maybe I should get my mom this," Stan said, holding up a book. I peered over at him, and did a double-take. What he for serious?

"Erm, Stan, you do know what that is, right?" I said carefully.

"Sure! It's an exercise book!" He looked at me innocently.

"Stan…. Goddamnit."

"What?"

"Read the title."

Stan looked at the book suspiciously. "1000 great positions… so what?" There was a picture of a woman stretching her legs on the front cover.

How could I possibly explain this to him without horribly embarrassing him and myself?

"Just trust me man, your mom's not going to want that."

Stan looked at me, confused. "How do you know? It's just a dumb exercise book dude… what's the big deal?" Stan proceeded to flip through it, looking at the picture. I watched his face slowly turn from confusion, to awareness, to shock, to horror. He let the book fall to the ground with a slight yelp.

I couldn't help but snicker at the horror plastered all over his face. "Dude, I told you she's not going to want that." I picked it up and read the back. "This book introduces you to the lovely world of kama sutra. There are over 1000 techniques in this book for you and your loved one to partake in… if you are not 100 satisfied, we will provide you with a full refund… dude, did you even read the back?"

Stan shook his head slowly, his face deathly pale. "Oh man…," he choked out "-you could have just TOLD me you know, and not hinted at it-" Suddenly a greenish hue appeared in Stan's face.

Uh oh. I knew that face anywhere. Stan was getting ready to blow chunks. His weak stomach hadn't improved over the years one bit. I quickly ran to the nearest employee and blurted out "Where's the nearest bathroom?"

The employee looked at me with raised eyebrows. "Hold up cowboy. Straight down the hall on the left. Don't spring a leak now."

Ugh. Not cool. "It's not for me, it's for him," I told him, gesturing towards Stan, who was quickly walking out of the store, hand over mouth.

"Aw sick! Don't let him puke in my store!" He whined at me. I glared at him, then ran back to Stan, leading him to the washrooms. He was barely even in the stall when his mouth exploded. I held the door shut behind him to give him some privacy, while others in the bathroom gave the stall and me weird looks.

_End scenario_

Yeah, so that was fun. Do you know what was even more fun? Inside the music store.

_Incident 2_

"Dude, I have no idea what the hell to get my sister," Stan told me.

I raised my eyebrow. I was about to speak when-

"Stop doing that!"

I was genuinely taken aback for a moment. "Doing what?"

"That thing you do with your eyebrow! Stop it!" Stan glared at me, face red.

"What, is it getting you all hot or something?" Snickering, I raised my eyebrow again.

"Don't!" Stan shoved me.

"Ah! What the fuck dude?" I shoved him back.

"Just stop!" He shoved me again.

I shoved him back. "Calm-" He shoved me, stepping closer.

"It's-" shove. I stepped closer, glaring at him.

"the-" shove.

"really-" shove.

"fuck-" shove.

"pissing-" shove.

"down-" shove.

"me-" shove.

"Stan-" We were literally inches away, and I was just about to shove him again, when-

"JESUS CHRIST, GET A ROOM WILL YOU?" Some grade nine hoe had shouted at us, and her group of skanky friends laughed.

Now, I normally would have immediately thought of a clever come back, but seeing as those thoughts exactly were in my mind at the time, my mouth dropped, and I stepped away quickly from Stan. He did the same. It took me a moment to realize that a bunch of stupid preteens had just insulted us. And no one, and I mean no one, got away with that.

"Shouldn't you prosti-tots be in class learning your multiplication tables or something?"

The 14 year old teen squad screeched at the insult. Their leader popped a bubble. She clearly thought she was the best thing that happened to the planet. She wasn't overweight, but she wore a miniskirt that was five sizes too small, causing a ripple of skin to billow over the edge. Totally sick.

"We're skipping," she said nonchalantly. "We don't need to take that shit from a bunch of goddamn teachers. All they do is preach and crap."

Wow. What an intelligent comeback. You must be real badasses.

"Hey, you guys wanna come back to my place? We can show you a sweet time," she said, winking, popping another bubble.

Okay, excuse me, but WHAT?

"Okay, listen here little girl-" she squawked at me – "-there are three reasons why that won't work. You can count to three right?" I continued on, ignoring the glare. "One – you're like what, 13 or 14? We're like five years older that you. I don't even know if that's legal. Two- judging by the way you can't buy clothes the proper size, I'd guess that you guys are either totally poor or probably tramps. Kinder-tramps in fact. That's not cool. Three – like I said, you're probably tramps. So who knows what STDs we could pick up from you?" The girls shrieked in dismay.

I felt bad for picking on someone five years younger, but she deserved it. That girl needed to be taken down a few pegs. Me and Stan went to leave, and Stan called over his shoulder

"See you ladies erm… well… NEVER!"

"FINE!" the leader screamed at us. "Go back to your faggy little lives, you fuckers!"

I wasn't about to let a comment like that bother me, but Stan thought otherwise. He whirled around and screamed at the sluts "We are not fags you goddamn hoe!" The girls ood and aahed at him, and I saw his face starting to go red with anger.

I took Stan by the shoulder and turned him around, facing me. I muttered in his ear "Dude, just let it go. They don't know what they're talking about." Stan stared at me for a moment, considering our options. Then he slowly nodded and turned around and left with me, flipping the girls off behind him.

"Stupid skanky hoes…." Stan muttered to himself, glaring at his shoes, face still red.

_End scenario_

And that was the day. Pretty much anything that came out of my mouth was stupid and pointless to say, or would inevitably make the current situation even more awkward.

Do you think I could have made the fact that I like best friend any more obvious? I mean, good going Kyle. Way to hold back Kyle. Way to freak Stan out. He'd have to be a total dolt to not know what was going through my head. I mean, he knows me better than anyone else right?

I found that any time I was merely looking at Stan, my mind drifted, thinking about different scenarios that could occur. He caught me accidentally checking him out once, but I think he'd just thought I'd zoned out or something, because he waved his hand in front of my face. I had muttered something about not being able to sleep the night before, but that got pretty old after three or four times.

I really, really hate myself right now. I mean, why can't I just face the fact that me and Stan are only friends, and that's all we'll ever be? I mean, the guys had like 7 girlfriends. You can't get much straighter than that.

But still, even though I'm most likely imagining it, I can't help but wonder. I mean, Stan blushed more today than I think I'd ever seen him blush in his entire life.

Shut up Kyle, he doesn't like you. He's more likely to like that prosti-tot than you.

Ouch. That stung a lot.

My only option is to give him space for a few days, to let him forget about this horrible day and to get myself under control. Then I'd just ignore these stupid urges and force them out of my mind. Surely, they'd eventually go away.

You can't just force your feelings away Kyle.

Says who?

Says logic. And logic makes sense.

I pictured myself, leaning in towards Stan. He was smiling at me, and I shuddered as our lips touched. He touched my cheek, and I leant in. He rested one of his hands on my thighs, and I wrapped one of my arms behind his back. My whole body was pounding with desire, and I felt my whole body get increasingly hot as our bodies became pressed closer together. Stan shifted his hand on my thigh….

Oh effing hell! I shook my head roughly, but the daydream wouldn't go away. I felt my cheeks flush hot, and my hands were shaking slightly.

I buried my face in the pillow on my bed, screaming into it until my voice died and I couldn't scream any more.

---

How was that for tension? Eh? EH?

I feel so bad making the boys go through all this! But it will all be worth it in the end!

LEAVE A REVIEW LURKERS! I see my 2500+ pageviews and know you are there!


	11. Christmas Day SKPOV

Over 3000 pageviews! YES!

First off, I feel I owe a huge thanks to all my reviewers and readers. I am extremely pleased with the number of comments I have received from lurkers in the past two chapters! Thanks so much for the reviews you guys! If you leave a review that's not anonymous, I usually respond, as you may have noticed.

I owe a huge thanks to these steady reviewers in particular:

Indiana Beach Bum – you left your first review about halfway through the story so far, and you always have such flattering things to say, it makes me feel so happy to know that people are really enjoying this story. Thanks for the support!

Coffeey – you wrote a review to basically every chapter, and you were the only one to enter my contest, and for that reason I strongly believe you kick butt!

Lilchicky04 – you always wrote the cutest little reviews! Thanks!

Special thanks also goes to Darkrealmist, Soon to be World Dominator, star-princess-xo, MrPointyHorns, Shuggie, Inusgrl90, and, oh fuck it! I can't name you all! If you ever wrote a review for me, thanks!

So, we're over halfway through at this point, and let me tell you, this chapter is going to be BIG for action and events and the like. I won't tell you too much here – you have to read to find out ;) . I can also safely tell you there will likely be a sequel to this coming out, entitled Overcoming Obstacles, or something of that sort. We shall see.

This chapter is entitled Christmas Day because, well it's Christmas Day. And who knows what may happen under the spirit of giving? This, I think, is a chapter that people have been waiting for since the beginning, so now I give to you, without hesitation, Chapter 11!

P.s. the contest is off. No one's interested so yeah. Oh, and sorry this chapter is a little angsty.

----

Chapter 11 – Christmas Day – SKPOV (Stan's, then Kyle's)

So this is Christmas.

I sigh as I stare out my bedroom window into the black night. My watch reads a bit past 1 am, enough to officially declare it Christmas Day. However, I'm not feeling particularly Christ-massy at the moment. Or in the past week. All of my thoughts have been consumed by my best friend. And, more recently, by memories of us shopping in North Park, which was quite possibly, one of the worst days of my life.

No, it wasn't bad enough that I totally forgot about our annual shopping trip. It wasn't bad enough that I leaned my hand against his chest in the car, making him freak out for the rest of the day. Or that I had to fall and hurt him, again. Or that he had to escort me to the bathrooms, and I nearly puked all over him. Or that I had to totally freak out at him over his stupid sexy eyebrow raise thing. Or EVEN that a bunch of stupid grade 9 skanks saw right through me.

What was bad enough was that I made it so blatantly obvious that I like him.

There was abso-fucking-lutely no way he could not know how I feel about him right now. And that scared me beyond all belief. The last thing I wanted was to alienate my best friend over some stupid little crush. Only I didn't thing it was stupid, and I definitely didn't think it was little. But that's besides the point. I'd rather have Kyle in my life as only a friend than not have Kyle in it at all. So I've done the only thing I could think to do the past two days – give Kyle his space for a while, and immerse myself in Christmas decorating in an attempt to forget about him.

It didn't work though. It seemed Kyle now occupied every cavity in my brain, my thoughts constantly taunting me with the person that would never be mine.

I hope that giving Kyle space for the past two days had made him forget about the awkwardness of that day. Even two days without him seems like ages though, which makes me even more worried. How am I supposed to fare next term in university if I can't even go without seeing him for two days now?

I can't say that I don't feel bad about avoiding him. Kyle always has a bit of a tendency to get a little depressed in the few days leading up to Christmas, and while it's become much less severe since his childhood days, I always made sure to at least pay him a visit on Christmas, to cheer him up. I had no intention, crush or no crush, of breaking that tradition anytime soon. Besides, breaking it now would make it even more apparent that I feel awkward around him now, wouldn't it?

I had my mind made up. Visit to Kyle tomorrow. After presents and family together-ness and all that holiday crap. Probably around mid-afternoon.

I continued staring out my window, watching all the snowflakes dance by my window. I saw two stuck together, and I was struck with a pang of jealousy.

Man. You know you're pathetic when you're jealous of snowflakes.

---

_Dude._

…

_I think I just broke up with Mandy. _

I stare blankly at the screen in front me, watching her icon go from online to offline.

I hadn't even intended to talk to her, really. Which was actually part of the problem now that I think about it. I had come online solely for the purpose of seeing if Kyle was online, and therefore home, so I could go over and visit him. He wasn't. Online, that is. I wonder where he is…

I'm getting off subject. As I was saying I had come online to see if Kyle was on, and he wasn't. Instead, Mandy was, and was she ever pissed off at me.

_Flashback_ (A/N: Why? Because I can.)

Marsh – (Merry Xmas) has signed on

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

Where the FUCK have you been?

Marsh – (Merry Xmas) says:

Woah, what's this, no Merry Christmas?

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

Fuck Merry Christmas. I want to know why the fuck you've been ignoring me for the past three days!

Marsh – (Merry Xmas) says:

I haven't been ignoring you. I've been getting ready for Christmas.

This much was true.

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

Like fuck you have!

_Wow. I think Mandy has a new favourite word._

Marsh – (Merry Xmas) says:

No, I really have. I've been holiday shopping and hanging out with my family.

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

Holiday shopping? Since when do you call it that? You've always called it Christmas shopping!

This is officially the most pathetic fight we've ever had.

Marsh – (Merry Xmas) says:

Why does it even matter?

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

You've been going to more parties, haven't you?

Marsh – (Merry Xmas) says:

8-) Uh, no I haven't. There haven't been any.

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

Bullshit.

Grrrrr.

Marsh – (Merry Xmas) says:

You know what Mandy? I'm getting pretty sick and tired of this shit. I know your last boyfriend cheated on you, and I'm sorry about that, okay? But honestly, get over it! What the hell have I ever done to make you not trust me!

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

Oh, nothing, only the fact that you've been sneaking around with random girls from your high school!

_If I were her I wouldn't be worried about the girls._

Marsh – (Merry Xmas) says:

What the fuck are you talking about? No I haven't!

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

Yes you have! You told me about all those girls at that party!

Marsh – (Merry Xmas) says:

WHAT? All I did was give you a few random names of people that were at the party. Goddamnit Mandy, I am allowed to have friends that are girls, you know! I don't go around fucking every girl I know!

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

How the hell should I know that you don't?

Marsh – (Merry Xmas) says:

HOLY SHIT! ARE YOU LIKE RETARDED OR SOMETHING? I AM SO FUCKING SICK OF THIS! I HAVE NEVER DONE ANYTHING TO MAKE YOU NOT TRUST ME, SO GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK, WILL YOU? YOU ARE SUCH A FUCKING NUTJOB!

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

Oh, so I'm CRAZY NOW AM I?

Marsh – (Merry Xmas) says:

I really wonder.

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

Fuck you! Your bf isn't supposed to think that of you.

Marsh – (Merry Xmas) says:

Well maybe if you stopped acting this way, it might help, huh?

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

Acting this way? Wtf I'm just being myself!

Marsh – (Merry Xmas) says:

No. You're not. When I first met you you were cute, and sweet. Now you're jealous and mental. I can't figure out why you went like this all of a sudden!

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

Because you act like you want someone else!

I felt my blood practically freeze over.

Marsh – (Merry Xmas) says:

What are you talking about?

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

When we were first together, you were constantly trying to like charm me and stuff. Now that's gone, and we barely even talk. All we basically do now is make out. Like you want to pretend I'm someone else or something.

Marsh – (Merry Xmas) says:

Bullshit.

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

And you're constantly talking about your friends from South Park. Especially that one boy, Kyle. Kyle Kyle Kyle. Hey guess what Kyle's doing at Harvard? Well that's great sweetie, but did you know Kyle did this?

_Holy fucking shit._

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

It's almost as if you like him.

_No way. _I shake my head in disbelief.

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

Huh. Is that it Stan? You're in love with your best friend?

_I can't believe even my girlfriend knows._

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

Turning gay on me now are you?

_Hey! I'm not gay! Maybe just bi!_

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

I bet you're swooning over there, you sick fucker.

_Okay, now I'm pissed._

Marsh – (Merry Xmas) says:

Fuck you Mandy! You bitch!

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

Oh hoh, hit a weak spot did I?

Marsh – (Merry Xmas) says:

You have no fucking right to say those things! You self righteous bitch I hope you burn!

_Maybe a little extreme._

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

Fuck you Stan! I hate you!

Marsh – (Merry Xmas) says:

GOOD! Because we're through! I don't date prima donnas!

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

You're breaking up with me?

Marsh – (Merry Xmas) says:

Yeah. Buhbye now.

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan : says:

Fine! Go fuck your gay little boyfriend, asshole!

Mandy – Goddamnit Stan has signed off

So now I'm sitting here, getting even more pissed off than before. Kyle was right about her. I should have left her ages ago.

I jump onto my bed and start to beat the crap out of my pillow. It expends a lot of energy, and I lie back on my bed, fuming at the walls of my room.

---

I open my eyes. Crap. I must have fallen asleep.

I check my clock. Huh. It's a little past 4.

I remember Mandy, and get angry for a moment before I force myself to let it go. I mean, I'm done with her now. I don't have to worry about all the drama she stirs up anymore.

_Go fuck your gay little boyfriend, asshole…_

Shit. I totally forgot about Kyle. Which is weird, because he's all I've been thinking about lately. I figure I should go over to his house now – it's late afternoon now, and I was planning on going earlier than that. Come on. Breaking up with my girlfriend shouldn't affect my ability to remember about helping a friend in his time of need. Especially when you like that friend in a certain way that friends should not normally be liked.

I clamber out of bed, and hope that Kyle's isn't too depressed.

_Well at least I'd get to comfort him._

Dude. That is fucked up.

---

Kyle's POV

I stared at the ceiling, making shapes out of all the dots.

I see an airplane.

I see a book on quantum physics.

I see Stan.

I see another Stan.

Oh! And look over there! It's Stan!

Which pretty much summarizes my life right now.

Wow. This is both depressing and pathetic.

I've kind of been in a weird funk all day. Maybe it's because it's Christmas. That always used to get me when I was younger. Not so much anymore. I think this time it has more to do with the fact that I'm hopelessly into my best friend, and have been depriving myself of him for the past two days.

I roll over on my bed, staring at the minutes pass by on the clock. 4:06, 4:07, 4:08…

After reaching 4:26, I get tired of this game and roll onto my back.

I've pretty much been lying on my bed for the last three hours, contemplating the uselessness of all existence, and how ridiculous the utmost depth of human emotion is. I close my eyes, and immerse myself in thought.

"Kyle?" I hear a voice. My bedroom door opens.

One step.

Two.

Someone's here.

"You awake?"

It's Stan.

IT'S STAN!

I sit bolt upright and swivel my legs to the edge of my bed. I immediately feel the blood rush to my head, and stars burst in front on my eyes. I swoon slightly, moaning a small curse at myself.

Stan apparently takes this as a gesture to be concerned about, because all of a sudden, he is right in front of me on his knees. He takes me by the shoulders, sending a jolt of electricity through my whole body.

"Kyle, are you okay?"

I nod, but my head is still swimming, so I rest my head on his shoulder. I breathe in his scent, enjoying every moment of it, not caring if it's freaking him out. I think maybe my brain finally broke.

Stan takes this as something to be even more concerned about, because he shifts one of his arms to my back, and then the other. My head stays on his shoulder, and I can feel the closeness of our bodies. It's the most amazing feeling in the world.

"Kyle?" he says my name softly. I say nothing, not wanting to spoil this moment. I shudder slightly from his touch, which apparently worries him more. He must think I'm upset about something or other, but nothing could be further from the truth. I was in a dazed, happy state right now, finding myself unable to even speak the smallest words.

"Dude, it's okay," he tries to reassure me for some reason. I bury my face further into his shoulder and neck, shamelessly enjoying every moment of it.

Stan's concern takes a turn for the better, because he pulls me slowly off the bed in order to be closer to him. I slip off the bed and land on him so that I'm straddling his thighs. He wraps his arms around me tighter.

Forget about dazed. I'm in heaven.

Wait. I'm being selfish here. Maybe HE'S really upset about something, like maybe him and his girlfriend fought again or something lame like that. I wrap my arms loosely around his waist, in an attempt to comfort him should the need arise.

We stay like that for a really long time. Like, at least a good ten minutes. Stan is rocking us both slightly back and forth, and my God, if I died right now I would die a happy person. I hold him tighter.

…wait. Did he just kiss my neck?

He had to have. How else could I explain that sudden warm sensation?

Dude. He couldn't… like me too, could he?

No way.

Regardless, I decided to test the waters. I slowly bring my head up, pressing our cheeks together. This gives me the urge to squirm in delight, but I resist the temptation. He responds by moving one of his hands up from my back to into my hair.

…I wonder.

I take this test one step further and bring my head fully up so our foreheads are resting against each other's. I am looking into his blue eyes, and see him looking back at me. Something's changed about them though. They are filled with an emotion of some sort that I'm not entirely able to decipher.

He runs his hands through my hair, never once breaking our eye contact. It is at this moment that I realize that just maybe Stan does, in fact, like me. I smile a little at him, and he smiles back.

I am just about to say something when he suddenly leans forward and kisses me, taking me off guard. It is deep and powerful, and I find I am swept under.

_Dude. I'm getting kissed._

_By a dude._

_Stan, in fact. _

_Stan my best friend is kissing me. _

…

_HOLY SHIT! STAN IS KISSING ME!_

_HURRY! KISS HIM BACK! QUICK!_

But after I manage to figure out what I SHOULD be doing at the moment, a good five seconds have passed, and Stan breaks the kiss, face quickly turning red from humiliation. He looks like he wants the Earth to swallow him whole.

_Shit._

He lets go of me quickly.

"Shit… dude…I am so, SO sorry…" he searches for words. He stands up and backs slowly towards my bedroom door.

"I'll… see you around… alright?" he mutters, leaving my room.

One second…

Two…

_Dude! No way are you escaping that easily!_ I get up to go after him.

"Stan!" I call out from the top of the stairs. He's at the bottom of them, seeming to have no intention of stopping to talk to me.

So I do the stupidest thing I could do at this moment.

I go down one stair, then two, then three, then I take a flying leap.

"Wait!" I holler at him. He stops to turn around, confused.

In a split second, I realize that I'm going to crash into him, and when I do, his head will smash against the wall behind him, quite possibly doing some serious damage there. So the second I reach him, I wrap my hands behind his head to shield it.

His back and my hands hit the wall with a resounding crash, and I hear a sickening crack as I feel a jolt of pain go up my left arm.

_Shit. Nice going on my part._

"Jesus Christ! What the hell are you doing?" Stan looks at me like I'm insane. Maybe I am.

Before I have a chance to respond, my mother comes rushing into the room.

"What was that crash?" she asks before her eyes settle on mine and Stan's crumpled position. Hey eyes widen.

"Kyle, buhbie, are you all right? What happened?"

I carefully detach myself from Stan, taking care to hide my left arm. I didn't want to look at it quite yet. I quickly checked Stan over. He appeared to be okay, although confused. There was a tiny dent in the wall where my hands hit it.

"It's nothing ma, I just fell down the stairs. Don't worry, I'm fine," I assured her. He rolled her eyes, muttering 'boys', before returning to the kitchen.

"Shit, dude, what the hell were you doing?" he asks me again.

"Well, I had to stop you SOMEHOW," I snapped back, all of a sudden angry with him. I raise my left hand to inspect it, and wince.

My middle and pinkie fingers are both bent at really odd angles, and I can see my knuckles starting to swell up. I touch my fingers gingerly, causing me to yelp slightly. I try to lay my hand as delicately as possibly on my leg.

Stan notices the condition of my hand, and his eyes widen.

"Holy shit dude!" he exclaims.

"Yeah…I think I might have to go to the hospital," I say calmly, thoroughly fascinated by the angles at which my fingers are bent at.

_Pinkie: approx. 43 degrees._

_Middle: approx. 115 degrees._

I raise my hand as if holding it to a light, turning it and inspecting it.

Huh.

"Can you drive me to the hospital?" I ask Stan.

"I don't have a car," Stan points out blatantly.

"So? You can drive Blitzkrieg."

Stan looks like he's about to have a seizure. "What? Since when do you let anyone other than yourself drive your car?"

"Well I figure it safer than me driving at this point," I point out logically. "Plus I trust you Stan." I smile at him, trying to make him feel better about earlier, but he looks down at his feet, avoiding my gaze.

I feel a wave of awkwardness pass over us. Shit. Why the hell did I have to freeze up?

I'll make this better. Soon. As soon as I get my hand fixed. I'm too consumed by the fascination and pain right now.

"So, shall we?" I ask him, flashing him my most genuine smile.

My smile fades as he gets up without looking at me. "Sure. Whatever. Let's go."

It's about a ten minute drive to the hospital (small town, I know), but it feels like we've been in the car for hours. Stan has neither said anything nor glanced at me. I can't tell whether he's angry with me, or just really embarrassed. Maybe both.

The clock ticks from 4:59 to 5:00.

Fuck this. I can't take it anymore. The tension is killing me.

"Pull over," I mutter to Stan. He cocks his head slightly.

"What?"

"Pull over!"

"Why?"

"Just do it!" I say, a slightly hysterical edge on my voice. Stan raises his eyebrow, but he obliges. He still hasn't looked at me.

We stay on the side of the road, silence engulfing us while I gather myself.

_I never would have thought this could happen._

I take a deep breath. "I owe you an apology."

Stan does a double-take. "Wait! What? What for?"

"I shouldn't have freaked out like that back there. You just – took me by surprise."

Stan looks confused. "What? I was the one that freaked out."

"You did because I did."

Stan goes deep red, and he gets that I-want-to-die-right-now look back on his face. "Well, I guess it's kind of how I expected you to react… I mean, dude. I know you don't feel like … that, and I should have never done anything."

I shake my head. "No. I'm glad you did."

Stan looks confused.

"Do you like me?" I suddenly blurt out. I can feel my own face start to change shades. "Or were you just screwing around, like the night of the party?"

Pause.

"Please don't hate me Kyle," he says, giving me an apologetic look.

That's all I needed. I unbuckle my seatbelt and turn to face Stan.

"What are you doing?"

I smirk evilly at him.

"Dude-" he starts to say, but he is cut off when I lunge towards him. I plant my lips firmly on his, while my right hand smacks the cold window, then curls around his neck. My left arm is hanging over his seat, safe from harm.

I feel Stan stiffen in shock then quickly loosen up. He kisses me back, and I feel a surge of emotions course through my whole body. Parts of my body experiences sensations it has never felt before. It was like being reawakened after a long slumber.

Stan leans more into me, giving him the height advantage seeing as how I am draped across the car. I feel his foot step off the brake, and the car starts to move. Stan breaks the kiss for a moment to shift gears.

"Dude, you didn't put my car in park?" I say, and I start to laugh, but it is cut short when I feel Stan's lips on mine once more. He wraps his arms around me, and I wrap mine around his neck, completely forgetting about my damaged hand. He leans into me, and I feel myself start to fall back. My neck and head are pushed up against the window. I gasp at the sudden coldness on my neck, and Stan takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth. He rakes it along the roof of my mouth, and I let out of moan of pure delight.

My hands are shaking as I move them along his back. I don't know what to do with them. I never knew anything could feel as amazing as this. I think my heart has stopped beating, and my brain has shut down. The only thing I have to go on is the motion of his body.

We keep at it for another few minutes, until I accidentally whack my left hand against the seat and I let out a yelp of pain. We both realize how incredibly awkward and uncomfortable it is to kiss in the front seat of a car. So we stop, and continue our drive to the hospital. I realize that I have an immensely stupid grin on my face, and I find I cannot make it go away. I look over at Stan, who is smiling in a very similar manner.

We get to the hospital after another few minutes, and I get accepted almost immediately. Turns out I'm one of the only people in South Park stupid enough to get hurt on Christmas.

Stan comes with me into the doctor's office. We take xrays, and the doctor tells me that I have two broken fingers (no really?) and a cracked knuckle. He puts my fingers in splints, and wraps my hand. I pretend to wince most of the time so Stan will hold my hand, and I think he knows this.

As we drive back to my place, I have another thought on my mind though. One that worries me.

"Stan-?" I say uncertainly.

He looks at me and smiles. "Yeah?"

I smile back, a little nervously. "If my mom finds out-"

Stan interrupts me. "No one has to know – yet," he assures me as he smiles knowingly. He boldly pecks me on the cheek.

That's all I needed to know.

---

Bet you're all really happy about this one eh?

So hurry and review! It'll make me feel special!


	12. Contemplations and Interruptions SPOV

Woooo! 88 reviews! Hooray! Let's break 100 with this chapter! Come on now – everyone contribute to this cause:D

(A/N: YES, Kyle has BLUE eyes! BLUE! Go check out Wacky Molestation if you don't believe me!)

Chapter 12 – Contemplations and Interruptions SPOV

It's been nearly a full day, and I still can't believe it. I've had this stupid smile plastered all over my face the entire day. I've been abnormally nice to everyone, including Shelly, taking my entire family off guard. They've poked and prodded me about my sudden happy spell, but got nothing out of me. After a short while they shrugged it off and got back to their lives. Which was just as well, for I had a secret. I dare not even whisper the words out loud, for fear they may shatter my reality and force me to wake up from this amazing dream.

Kyle's coming over tonight. We both agreed we should spend some time with Kenny and Cartman, like we used to. We've only seen them that one night at the party, and that made me feel guilty. I knew Kyle felt the same. Well, about Kenny at least. I'm not so sure about Cartman.

We also agreed that we would be exchanging Christmas presents that day too, with all four of us here. Even though it was technically boxing day. We usually all got presents for each other, and although Kyle always got something small for Cartman, Cartman usually got him nothing in return. He hardly let it faze him though. Cartman didn't deserve a friend like him.

Which brings me to a minor dilemma currently rotting my brain. Now that we've… well … done stuff, how do I act around him? Different, or the same? If I act the same, will he take it as a sign that I don't want anything to do with him? But if I act differently, will he be weirded out? And even more importantly, would Kenny and Cartman notice? Kenny I wasn't so worried about, he was convinced that we've been together since the fifth grade, and was usually just kidding with his sexual innuendo. Cartman, however… if he found out, it would be all over town in minutes. And then everyone would know.

I wasn't really so concerned about my parents finding out. I mean, sure they'd be shocked and all, but they'd get over it after a few days. Even Ike and Mr. Broflovski would probably accept it after a while. It was Mrs. Broflovski I was worried about. That woman was so unpredictable it was scary. I was shocked and impressed that Kyle even had the guts to do anything with me. If I lived with that woman breathing down my neck, my own shadow would cause me to jump. If she ever found out…

I shuddered, willing myself to suppress the thought.

Why was I even thinking about getting caught? Like, all we've basically done is make out for a few minutes, which could mean next to nothing. I mean, does that constitute as being together? I don't think so. One incident does not generate a relationship.

More than one however…

Dude, are me and Kyle going to get together? Are me and Kyle… together?

Strangely enough, this thought was entirely new to me. Before, all I had thought about was kissing and making out, sometimes with our shirts off. Mmrm. The idea of actually being in a real relationship with my best friend was untrodden territory. Like a holding hands, going on dates, phone calling on a day to day basis real relationship? I was totally shocked to find that this hadn't come up before. Would this be going anywhere? Would be and Kyle become a COUPLE?

Wow. That's powerful. We could be boyfriend and… boyfriend.

I mouthed the words to myself, for fear of being heard.

'Hello, this is my boyfriend, Kyle.'

I grinned as I felt how easily the words came out of my mouth. Like they were the most basic combination of syllables in the English language. It didn't feel odd, or strange, as I suspected they might have. It felt… right. Natural, as I recall myself saying before. I mouthed them again, silently.

'Have you met my boyfriend, Kyle? Hi, this is my boyfriend, Kyle. I would like to introduce you to Kyle, my boyfriend. My boyfriend. MY boyfriend. My BOYFRIEND.'

Shouldn't it have felt weird for me, a formerly straight as a ruler man to be calling someone else his boyfriend? Because it didn't. It felt fantastic. Before, for me, it was always my girlfriend, Wendy. My girlfriend Mandy. Never boyfriend.

Now that I was broken up with Mandy, I felt a huge weight lifted off of me. And then Kyle happened. I was soaring compared to before. What happened yesterday seemed like a dream. I couldn't even be sure it was real. But, in another sense, I totally knew it was real. Like illusion and reality all at once. Weird. But I know if it hadn't happened, I wouldn't have so vividly imagined myself pinning him against the window, or him moving his hands sporadically along my sides and back. Kyle was way better than anything I could have anticipated or imagined. I knew he was a little unsure, probably because he's never really had a real girlfriend. At least that I know of. This must be so weird for him. But I can tell you that no girl has ever felt as good as Kyle when he was randomly putting his hands all over me. It was like he was everywhere at once. It felt amazing. I remembered he moaned when I dared to put my tongue in his mouth. I swear, I almost threw up from nerves right there, but I somehow managed to keep it down for once. Thank God I did. He moaned… that was a really good sign, wasn't it? Like he was enjoying himself.

Man, I think I'm totally overanalyzing this whole thing. I need to take it down a notch, and see where things go.

But I couldn't resist the urge to say those magic words again. I listened intently for a moment; my sister was blaring music in her room, and I heard the TV on in the family room. With THE couch, as I have taken to calling it. I bit my lip, and dared to say the words in my normal voice. The voice that came out of me was foreign.

"Kyle and me could be together."

I couldn't take it. I broke out into a huge grin and pumped my fist in the air in my quiet chant of victory. I almost shouted huzzah, but I was smiling too wide to speak and then I started laughing uncontrollably. This was just too much to bear. To much happy. I didn't know how to deal with it. So I collapsed on my bed, laughing hysterically. I covered myself with my blankets, and laughed into my pillow, to muffle the sound. My family must think I'm going insane. I rolled over and fell off my bed. This caused me to laugh even harder, and I found that there were tears running down my face. My stomach begged me to stop, but I found I could not.

"What the hell are you on?"

I jumped and scrambled to untangle my body from the blanket as I whirled around. Kyle was leaning against my doorway with his arms crossed, giving me a bemused expression.

"'Cause I want some of that." He snickered.

I finally managed to free myself from the blankets and I stood up. Shit, was it the evening already? How long had I been contemplating all this for? If he had heard what I was saying before, he showed no sign of it on his face. Plus, his cheeks were pink with cold, implying that he had just gotten here. I glanced down to his hand, and upon seeing the splints and bandages, I finally managed to convince myself that yesterday was, in fact, not a dream.

"It's called life," I quipped back teasingly. "You should try getting some of it sometime."

Kyle pretended to give me a deathly glare. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. "Ugh! You asshole! I'll fucking kill you!" He stormed towards me, right hand pulled back as though he was about to punch me.

I was too quick for him though. I grabbed his right fist, twisted it under quickly then pulled it around so he's forced to turn around with his hand behind his back.

"What are you going to do now?" I breathed mockingly into his ear.

"This," he stated quickly, and before I had time to react, he shoved his body backwards, hard against me. I let out an oomph and fell backwards onto the foot of my bed, causing me to slide down into a sitting position on the floor. I scowled at my best friend.

"Bastard."

"Aw, now that cuts me Stan. Why would you go and say a thing like that?" He gave me a sad face, and I smiled once more.

"Because it's true."

"My parents are both alive and well, thank you." Kyle reached out his hand to help me up, but I had other ideas.

Do I dare?

I think I do.

I yanked Kyle's hand as hard as I could, causing him to fall on top of me. He landed between my legs, with one hand on either side of me, and our faces inches apart.

I was stupid to think that I'd have to act differently around Kyle. I mean, we've been around each other, acting the same way for years. Why should it change now? Things are still the same, better actually. All the tension from the past few days was gone, and was now replaced with a mildly shy atmosphere.

I smiled nervously as I brought my lips to his. The kiss was soft and sweet. Right now wasn't the best time to do anything. Kenny and Cartman would be over shortly. I brought one hand to the side of his face, and he rested his injured hand lightly on my shoulder. We broke apart, and I could see Kyle smile, a little shyly. I was totally sure now without a doubt that I intended to make Kyle my boyfriend. If he'd be willing, that is, and the signs were looking good.

Just then I remembered something.

"Kyle, there's something you ought to know."

Kyle raised his eyebrows at me. "Uh oh."

"Nonono!" I warded Kyle off of thinking that I'm about to say something bad. "This is a good thing!"

"What?" He was curious now.

"I broke up with Mandy yesterday afternoon."

Kyle looked totally surprised and taken off guard, and then he broke out in a huge grin. "Dude! That's great!" His smile quickly faded as he tried to cover up what he just said. "I mean dude, man that's tough. I'm sorry." He waited for my response, to see if I felt the same.

"Don't be," I assured him, smiling ever so slyly.

Kyle broke out in his former grin. "So what caused the sudden turnaround?"

"I don't know. I guess I just snapped from dealing with her."

"But breaking up with her on Christmas? I mean, it's great and all, but man. That's pretty harsh."

"So what, are you taking her side?"

Kyle looked at me in disbelief. "What? Never!"

"That's what I thought. Oh, and she totally accused me of liking you."

Kyle gave me a strange look. "How the hell did she know?"

"Beats me. I hadn't even talked to her in days."

Kyle raised an eyebrow at me. I think he's figured out that that's a strange turn-on for me. "Some boyfriend you are. And dude… you didn't… you know… like me, before, did you?" Kyle looked awkward at asking this question.

Eh, might as well let him know. "I think I did, but I didn't realize it. It's kinda sad when your girlfriend knows before you do, huh?"

Kyle nods in agreement, and I frowned at him. He wasn't supposed to agree with that. But then again, Kyle was rarely ever one to tell me what I wanted to hear. "I think it was somewhat the same for me too."

I smiled as I realized that we just openly admitted our feelings for each other for the first time.

Goddamn, I'm not going to turn into a girl, am I? Because if I am, just kill me. Right now.

My thoughts were interrupted as I heard the doorbell ring.

"Guess it's them," Kyle said, and he left my room to go let the arrivals in. I followed him downstairs. He had barely even opened the door before Kenny burst in, shouting greetings at us. Cartman was close behind, nearly barreling Kenny over in an attempt to get in first. I was surprised he didn't get stuck in the doorway. I didn't think it was possible for him to get any fatter, but there you have it.

Kenny gave both me and Kyle and brief pat-on-the-back hug before settling down on my couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and turning on the TV.

"Make yourself at home," I said to Kenny, grinning. He grinned back and saluted me.

Cartman's entrance, however, was much different. He grunted as he walked by me, barely acknowledging my presence. Kyle raised his hand to Cartman, as if to give him a high five. Leave it to Kyle to try to think the best of people. I think Harvard made him a little soft in the head in regards to remembering what an asshole Cartman was.

What Kyle had forgotten was that he raised his left hand. The broken one. I saw it coming a mile away, but it all happened too fast to be able to do anything about it. Cartman, with a malicious glint in his eye, raised his own hand up and proceeded to give Kyle the hardest high five I had ever seen anyone give anyone else in my entire life. The sound of their hands ripped through the room in a resounding crack.

I felt my heart stop as I saw Kyle's face contort in pain. For a moment, everything was quiet. Then, the quiet was shattered into a thousand shards by the sound of Kyle's scream.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!" he yelled out, whirling around and clutching his hand. I saw tears of pain almost immediately spring to his eyes.

The first thing I felt was concern. I immediately rushed over to Kyle's side.

"Shit dude, are you okay?" I asked him, putting a hand on his back. He was almost doubled over, cradling his hand. He was grimacing, and his eyes were shut tight.

"No Stan, I am not fucking okay!" he shouted at me, opening his eyes for a moment to glare at me. I was a little taken aback by the hostility, but hey, the guy was in pain. Kenny was over by Kyle's side in a flash too, looking almost as concerned as me. Cartman was standing there looking stupid, maybe even a little shocked. As much of an asshole Cartman was, I don't think he expected Kyle to react quite like that.

Kenny was now gently prying Kyle's hand away from him. He gently touched it, and Kyle yelped. I took a look; his knuckles were starting to swell again, and patterns of bruises were appearing all over his hands. I don't know if Cartman caused the bruises, but it still looked pretty bad.

"You're going to need some ice on that at the very least," I noted. I put an arm around Kyle's back and started to lead him into the kitchen. I stopped for one moment as anger flared up at Cartman. I turned around and gave him one of the most deadly glares I had ever given anyone in my entire life.

"Goddamnit Cartman, you FAT FUCK! Why the hell did you have to do that? I SAW you LOOK at Kyle's hand, you KNEW it was injured, so what the hell was that for? You are such an ASSHOLE!"

Cartman looked at me for a moment, trying to come up with a clever retort. "Ey! YeWell maybe Kahl shouldn't have tried to high-five me in the first place, stupid Jew fag."

I was about to retort when I saw the murderous look on Kenny's face. He would take care of verbally abusing Cartman, and I could focus my attention on 'Kahl'. Over the years, Kyle and I really did become closer to Kenny than we were before, although his deaths still didn't faze us much. After seeing the same person die in hundreds of different ways and constantly come back, the shock value became somewhat lost. Anyways, Kenny, as a result, starting being friendlier and talking to us more, and once he realized we cared about what he had to say, he began taking off his hood. It turned out that while Kenny WAS the horniest member of the group, his head was at least screwed on right, so he did have some valuable ideas to contribute. Kenny protected his own. After all, was it not Kenny that saved us from the three-headed Ashleeee Simpson monster in the seventh grade?

I turned all my attention onto Kyle as I heard Kenny begin to cuss Cartman out. I think Kenny always had the biggest impact on Cartman that way because they were sort of best friends plus Kenny never used to talk that much when we were little.

I led Kyle into the kitchen. He leaned against the counter, still holding his hand. He looked a little better – at least he wasn't cussing and grimacing anymore.

"Seriously Kyle, are you okay? I can take you back to the hospital if you need to."

"Cartman, what the fuck is wrong with you?" I heard Kenny ask Cartman from the other room.

Kyle shook his head. He brought his hand towards his face much like yesterday, examining it. "I think I'm alright. It's better now. Ice should be fine."

"Seriouslah, it wasn't my fault Kennyyyyy," Cartman whined.

"You sure?" I asked him, frowning a little. He nodded. I glanced at the kitchen doorway – the coast as clear. I leaned in and caught Kyle in a brief kiss. Funny how even the smallest gestures could send lightning bolts of adrenaline down my spine. I think I'm addicted to Kyle. And that might not be such a bad thing.

"Jesus Christ if you rebroke his hand-"

"He's fine, he's fine," Cartman dismissed.

He kissed me back quickly, then we broke apart, not wanting to get caught.

Kenny and Cartman were really going at it by now.

"I swear to God, I'm going to rip Cartman's head off," I muttered to myself as I pulled an ice pack out of the freezer and wrapped it in a dishcloth.

"You can't," I heard Kyle say. He must have heard me.

"Why not?" I asked him. "He deserves it."

Kyle snorted. "No shit. It's just that I want to do it myself."

"Ah," I said, understanding. "Well I'll have to let you get your revenge then. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?"

"A bad one." I smirked at him as I handed him the ice. He took it gratefully and shifted it around with his right hand, trying to find the least painful way to put it on. I felt a twinge of sympathy. Between the two splints, the bandages, the swollen knuckles and the bruises, Kyle's hand looked like something out of a horror movie. He swiped his sleeve under his eyes, getting rid of the mild trace of wetness under his eyes.

When we exited the kitchen a few minutes later, both Kenny and Cartman were in a much more docile state. Kenny was back on the couch, and Cartman was sitting huffily in an armchair.

"Kyle, Eric has something he'd like to say to you," Kenny told Kyle before Kyle had the chance to storm over and beat Cartman to a pulp. His anger was overshadowed by a look of confusion.

"What?" He asked. He turned his attention to Eric, who was glaring at the TV. He said nothing. Kenny gave him a warning look, and Eric finally sighed and opened his mouth.

"Goddamnit. Kahl… Jew-boy… I… I…I'm… The thing is… Goddamnit Kenny I can't do it!" He whined, looking for sympathy.

"Fine then. I'll guess I'll just tell everyone that-"

Cartman quickly interrupted. "Kahl, I'm sorry. There, you got it, asshole?" Cartman turned his glare from the TV to Kenny. "And I hope you're happy, you poor piece of crap!"

Mmmm, smells like blackmail.

Kyle sniggered at the obvious use of blackmail on Cartman. Apparently he also decided that Cartman apologizing was belittling enough to the overweight boy, without getting the crap kicked out of him too. So instead of ripping Cartman's head off, he took a seat beside me and Kenny on the couch.

"Weeeeeeeeeeeeeell, now that THAT'S over with, anyone care to do presents?" Kenny asked us, eager to lighten the mood. He was also probably eager to see what he got.

"One sec, let me just grab mine," I said. I got up quickly to get my presents. When I came back, everyone had their presents out, except for Cartman. I wondered if he decided to totally play the cheapskate this year and get nothing for anyone. Kenny was now sitting on the edge of my coffee table, with three small packages at his feet. The first time we got presents for each other, probably around the sixth grade, I had mentioned to Kenny that he hadn't needed to get us anything, you know, because of his… well, economic status. He had gotten so offended that he hadn't talked to me for almost a full week. No one mentioned the subject anymore. Kyle was sitting cross-legged on the floor. I walked over and sat down beside him, our knees slightly touching. And even that tiny contact sent adrenaline coursing through my veins.

"Happy holidays Kyle," I say as I hand Kyle his present. I repeat the same for Cartman and Kenny, only with a 'Merry Christmas' instead.

"Sweet!" I heard Kenny exclaim as he tore the paper to shreds, revealing a set of double shot glasses and a book entitled '5001 things to do with alcohol'. "You're the best Stan. Thanks! And you even wrapped it nicely this year!"

"No problem dude. And I didn't wrap it – someone did it at the mall for me," I informed him.

"Figures," Kenny said, grinning. I was a horrible gift wrapper. Kyle, I noted, had done it the easy way and put everything into gift bags.

Cartman was the next to open his. I had, against Kyle's wishes, gotten him a biography on the life of Hitler. I might as well. Besides, I figured that Kyle would be getting him some joke present anyways. Cartman's eyes widened as he saw it, and a look of pure delight was plastered all over his chubby face.

"You guys, seriouslah! YES! YESSS!" He exclaimed, shutting his eyes. "Stan, all those times I ever called you a hippie, I take it back."

That was as much of a thank you I'd ever get from Cartman. "You're welcome," I replied, smiling.

Kyle was the last to open. Upon taking one look at the green university sweater from my university, he cracked up laughing.

I frowned at him, not understanding. "What? Don't you like it?" I asked him.

"No, no dude, it's not that!" he exclaimed. "It's just that… here, just open yours," he said, shoving a bag towards me. I opened it and pulled out a blue Harvard university sweater. Finally understanding, I joined Kyle in with his fits of laughter.

"Dude, you got each other the same thing?" Kenny laughed.

Cartman rolled his eyes. "God, you guys are such FAGS!" He informed us. "It's not THAT funny!"

Kyle was still laughing as he took his current sweater off, replacing it with the new one I got him. I did the same. Kyle then handed his remaining presents to Kenny and Cartman.

"A two year subscription to Playboy magazine?" Kenny squealed. "Oh man. Have I told you recently how much I love you?"

"Just now," Kyle replied, grinning.

Cartman, however, looked less than amused as he looked at his one year to subscription to _Healthy Lives_ magazine and a workout movie with some chick on the front. In fact, he looked rather disgusted. I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing, quickly joined by Kenny. Kyle tried to keep a straight face, but eventually lost it too.

"I hate you so much, Jew," Cartman said, looking seriously angry.

"Bu-but Cartman! I chose the one with the hottest girl on the front!" Kyle tried to compensate for the insulting present.

"So. Much," Cartman said through gritted teeth. "You people-"

"Alllllriight, now it's my turn," Kenny announced loudly, trying to steer us off another argument. Kenny had wrapped his with the comics, and actually did a pretty decent job. I was impressed.

My present revealed a copy of _Naughty Nurses III_, Kyle's a copy of _Backdoor Sluts VIIII, _and Cartman's _Pleasantly Plump Prostitutes II_. Porn. Go figure.

"That's awesome Kenny, thanks," I tell him genuinely. I doubt I'll ever watch it – porn never was much of a turn-on for me.

"Only the best for my friends," he states, wiggling his eyebrows. I snicker.

"Okay, so! Anyone care for pizza?" I ask, figuring we were done with presents.

"Ey! Wait one moment! I haven't gone yet!" Cartman tells me.

"I don't see anything," Kyle points out.

Cartman snorts. "Well, yeah, because they're inside my pockets," he states simply. He fishes around, eventually pulling out one, two, then three picture frames. Guess he did get Kyle a present after all.

"You got us picture frames?" Kenny asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No, asshole, it's what's IN the picture frames!" Cartman explained. He chucked one at each of us. I looked at the image, and gasped in horror.

It was a close-up of me and Kyle kissing when we were playing spin the bottle on the night of the party. I felt a red blush start to creep up my neck. I tried to will it away, and failed.

Kyle was looking at his picture with equal horror too. He mouth had dropped open, and mixture of shock and anger showed in his crystal blue eyes.

"Wha… wha… why?" He sputtered.

"How… the hell did you get a picture of that?" I asked Cartman.

"Pfft. With my cellphone, dumbass!" He retorted. I took another look at the picture. It WAS really grainy.

"So why did you give one to Kenny?" Kyle asked, not fully comprehending.

"See for yourself," Cartman said, smirking. I turned to look at Kenny. He had a mixture of surprise and joy on his face.

"Oh… wow. This is orgasmic. I'm saving that for later," Kenny said, smiling. He put it into his jacket pocket, patting it firmly.

Me and Kyle exchanged looks of horror.

"Ah! AWWW!" We both exclaim simultaneously.

"As if giving copies of it to US wasn't bad enough!" I exclaim.

"Now, now," Kenny says. "That's no way to talk. What's Kyle going to think? You sound like you regret that night."

Oh, so far from true.

"Maybe he does," Kyle says, supporting me.

"Aw. Are you two broken up then? That's too bad."

"We were never together," I inform him.

_When did that become a lie?_

"Suuuure," Kenny says, winking at us.

"Ew, Kennyyy, stop it!" Cartman whines. "The thought of those two fags going at it makes me sick!"

"So why'd you take a picture of us then?" Kyle asked him, eyes narrowing.

Cartman paused. "Because I hate you guys."

I walked into the kitchen, throwing the photo in the garbage. I bet I could get a much better one than that. I called up Whistlin' Willy's to order a pizza.

"Hey, you guys, what do you want on the pizza?" I hollered at them.

"Ham!" I heard Cartman yell.

"Cartman, we are NOT getting ham on the pizza!" We had been through this many times before.

"But I bet Kahl doesn't even want any pizza!"

"I do so!"

"Goddamnit Jew, you always have to ruin my day!"

I heard the guy at the other end of the phone. "Sir, WHAT did you want on your pizza?" He sounded annoyed.

"Okay you guys, really. What do you want?" I yell at them.

"Pepperoni!"

"Extra cheese!"

"Olives!"

"Ew, but olives are so nasty."

"Screw you fatass, I like olives."

"Green peppers!"

"Mushrooms!"

"Ew, no mushrooms!"

"Fine!"

"Tomatoes!"

"No!"

"And that spicy dipping sauce!"

"Okay, so what's the final decision?"

"Pepperoni, extra cheese, olives and green peppers. And the spicy dipping sauce."

"Minus the olives."

"Alright." I relay the information back to the guy, and hang up.

When I come back into the room Kenny is pulling out his collection of pirated movies. We rifled through them, and eventually decided on _The Exorcist_, and _Monty Python's Quest for the Holy Grail_. Both classics. I pulled out a bunch of blankets from upstairs and brought them down.

And that's how we spent our evening; watching movies and eating pizza curled up under blankets. About halfway through the Exorcist Kyle surprised me by grabbing my hand underneath the blankets. He looked so good, nestled up in my bed sheets, staring at the television screen, completely unaware that I was looking at him. But I had to be careful – the last thing I needed was Cartman figuring me out. Goddamn, I wanted another chance to make out with Kyle again, but this time for longer and in a more comfortable setting.

He kept his grip on my hand throughout the rest of this movie, and even the next after Kenny had changed tapes. By the time the last one was over, it was around 11 o clock, and Kenny and Cartman decided to leave. Kyle and I saw them off.

"Aren't you leaving too Kyle?" Kenny asked him.

"Nahh, I think me and Stan will probably hang out, you know, play video games or some shit," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. Kenny looked suspicious, but said nothing more as he and Cartman left for the night. I closed the door behind them, then turned to face Kyle.

The lights were off in the house, and I could see his silhouette. The house was completely empty.

"So," I said conversationally, walking towards him. "What do you want to do?"

"Iunno," he said. "Want to sit down?"

"Sure," I replied. We wordlessly walked over to THE couch, and sat down. I knew what was going through my mind, and was almost positive that Kyle was thinking the same thing. But I wasn't sure how to go about this. Which was strange, for me anyways.

I decided to take the plunge. I quickly grabbed his cheek (A/N: No, not THAT one, you pervs) and turned his face towards me as I leant in and brushed our lips together.

Kyle's reaction was immediate this time. He leant in too, pushing our faces closer together and instantly deepening the kiss. I rested a hand on his thigh, and he entangled his leg with mine, grabbing my side with his right hand.

This was great. Except that Kyle's glasses were poking me in the eye. I broke away for one brief moment to remove the bothersome object and place them on the coffee table. Then I was right back with Kyle. I grabbed him around the waist and kissed him harder, causing him to gasp. He surprised me when he grabbed my waist too and forcefully pushed me backwards on the couch. Kyle was attacking my face with his arms around my neck while I was hurredly trying to get rid of the bulge of blankets underneath me. I managed to push them off the couch, then fell backwards into the cushions. I pulled my legs onto the couch, hauling Kyle's with me. And now he was on top of me.

I moaned in delight as Kyle continued deepening the kiss while slowly running his hands up and down my sides. I could feel my body temperature rising as a thousand sparks were initiated. It was like getting electrocuted, only I'll bet this was a hell of a lot nicer.

"Oh God, Kyle," I distantly heard myself saying. Or trying to say, at least. The second I opened my mouth, Kyle's tongue slipped inside and my words were muffled by more moans.

I couldn't take this anymore. In one swift movement, I grabbed Kyle's hips and directed his body so that I rolled over on top of him. We both struggled for control with our tongues and bodies' for a while, but I proved to be the stronger person. But that's okay, because I had now moved on to Kyle's neck, kissing and biting gently. He cried out my name, and I instantly felt myself go hard. I moved slowly down his neck, and when I reached his collarbone, he cried out and arched his back, pressing our chests and hips against each other's. We both instantly let out moans of satisfaction. I grabbed onto his hips and grinded into him, hard, inducing a moan from within myself.

"Holy fuck Stan!" Kyle cried out. "Oh my God!"

I suddenly wanted him out of that sweater. Like, really, REALLY badly. I reached down and pulled it up over his head, and he did the same to mine. I could feel our chests pushed up even closer against each others, and as Kyle's hands explored my body, and as my tongue explored his mouth, and as I heard both of us cry out and moan, I could have sworn that I had died and gone to heaven. Nothing earthly was ever made to feel this good.

I was just about to go for his tshirt when the phone rang. I groaned openly into his mouth, and made to get up. Kyle tried to pull me back down.

"Just let it ring," he gasped out, obviously breathless. I smiled apologetically at him.

"I wish I could, but it's probably my parents. And you know my dad. No one answers the phone and he shows up two minutes later with the entire fire department AND the FBI."

Kyle frowned at me, and I guiltily pecked him on the cheek before hurrying to answer the phone.

"Hello?" I said, trying not to sound breathless, and failing.

"Hello Stan." _Oh shit._

"Mandy, look. I can't talk to you right now."

"I know. You're mad at me, but just hear me out, okay?"

"Mandy, I'm kind of b-"

"Please Stan."

I rolled by eyes, defeated. "Fine." Kyle came over, curious as to what was going on. I mouthed 'Mandy' to him and signaled shooting myself in the head. Kyle snickered.

"I admit, I have been unfair to you lately, and I'm sorry. I truly am. But if we want to make this work you have to call me, and talk to me more than like once a week. I… I love you Stan, and I don't want to lose you."

Shit. What did I say to that? "Um, Mandy, just see here-"

"Wouldn't you be willing to give me another chance? To give US another chance?"

I looked at Kyle imploringly. 'Help me' I mouthed at him. He wordlessly took the phone from me. I went into the other room to put on the speaker phone so I could be a part of the conversation.

"Hello?"

"Hello, who is this?"

"This is Kyle. Stan's friend."

Mandy sounded irritated. "Where's Stan?"

"Oh, he's probably on the speaker phone right now. He'll talk if he wants to. Hey Stan!"

"Hey Kyle."

"What the HELL is going on?"

"Woah, a bit of pent up rage there, huh?"

I heard Mandy speak through gritted teeth. "I want. To speak. With Stanley."

"Don't you know he hates being called that? I mean, shouldn't you know that? You ARE his… wait I mean, WERE his girlfriend weren't you?"

"Where the hell is Stan?" she shrieked out.

"I'm right here," I assured her.

"What the hell is Kyle doing on the phone?"

"Ah, see, now that cuts me. Don't you like me? I like you. You sound funny."

Holy shit. He's really good at pissing her off.

"I sound FUNNY?"

"Yeah. But that's off topic. You see, my friend here broke up with you for a reason. You're going to have to face facts. It's through."

"So why doesn't HE tell me that?"

"He already did."

"Bu-But! He was just angry at the time."

"Mandy, I'm sorry. But we're through," I blurted out.

"Plus he's already got someone else."

"What? So he WAS cheating on me?" She was losing it.

"No! He broke up with you first."

"So he got over me, just like that? WHO THE HELL IS HE SEEING? I'LL BREAK HER JAW!"

Pause.

"Me." And Kyle hung up. He sounded very pleased with himself.

"Sorry Mandy," I tried to apologize.

"Is it true? I wasn't being SERIOUS when I was saying that on MSN!"

What do I have to lose at this point? "Yeah, it's true. I'm sorry honey. I … gotta go." And I hung up the phone, feeling both very pleased and guilty at the same time.

Kyle was laughing his ass off in the kitchen when I got back there.

"Oh… oh man! If I could SEE the look on her face!" His eyes were streaming from laughing so hard, and he was practically doubled over, clutching his stomach.

I smiled at him, then took his good hand and led him back into the family room.

Our lips had barely touched when the front door flew open, revealing my parents. Shit. So much for tonight.

"We're home!" my mother sang out, and upon seeing us, "Hello boys. What are you up to?"

"Oh we were just watching movies and making – " SHIT. What was I thinking? Cover it up, Stan! Quick!

"…something to eat!" I announced. "Did you want anything, mom?"

She smiled at me. "No thanks dear. I'm quite tired, I think I'll just be going to bed now. Night boys." My mom went upstairs, shortly after followed by my dad, who gave us the thumbs up.

As soon as they were gone, Kyle turned towards me. "Good going," he stated, raising an eyebrow.

"I know, I'm sorry," I apologized. "But I did save it, didn't I?"

"Yeah. You did. So I guess we should be making something to eat then? What were you thinking of?"

I looked around, my eyes resting on the boxes on the coffee table. "Pizza?" I asked him.

"I don't think that qualifies as making."

"Well, whatever." I decidedly walked over to the couch, sat down, and grabbed a slice of cold pizza. Kyle joined me.

"Oh, I forgot. I brought back the clothes you lent me."

I considered this. "Keep them. They look good on you."

Pause.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Another silence.

"Stan?"

"Yeah?"

"You wouldn't avoid talking to me for a whole week, would you?"

I smiled at him through the dark. His blue eyes shone back at me. "I couldn't even if I wanted to."

He snorted, but I think he was satisfied with that response.

"Let's go tobogganing. Like we used to."

"When?"

"Tomorrow, dumbass."

I groaned. "I can't dude, I have to go visit my grandpa at the old folk's home. Knowing my parents, we'll be there all day."

"Ugh. And we're having a family reunion the next day."

"So… the day after?"

"That'll be three days from now."

"I know dude, but my parents will bite my head off if I try to get out of seeing grandpa."

Kyle sighed. "And I can't get out of a family reunion. Alright then. Three days."

"Three days."

---

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	13. Gift of Flight KSKPOV

Wooo sorry for the long delay this time! My photoshop crapped out and I have been rampaging and hysterical all week trying to get it back. Grrr but it's all good now!

This chapter is nothing special, basically just building relationships. This is the fourth last, as in there will be three more.

Oh! And thank you guys for carrying me to over 100+ reviews! You rock my world!

Oh! And because I promised.

Everyone. This is HIGHLY important.

Go check out Fainted.Tears.' fic My Angel, Your Devil right now. Because it is seriously awesome and she needs more reviews! Go do it! NOW!

Chapter 13 – The Gift of Flight - KSKPOV (Kyle/Stan/Kyle – confusing much?)

I went home that night feeling disappointed, annoyed and elated all at once. I was disappointed that I wouldn't get to see Stan for over two days (I mean, we're only home for like two weeks, there's only like four or five days left of vacation as it is!). I was annoyed with Mandy and a little bit with Stan's parents for interrupting us, but hey, it was their house, wasn't it? Lastly, I was elated because… well, speaks for itself.

But Mandy. Who the hell did she think she was? I mean, I know she didn't interrupt us on purpose. Actually, I'm not too sure. I bet she was spying on Stan just to break us up at the most opportune moment. She probably had a wireless device that beeped whenever Stan got within a foot of another human being. That would explain why she constantly thought Stan was cheating on her.

Actually, that possibility was totally stupid. Wow. I should listen to myself speak. Or think. I'm SURE Mandy didn't call right then on purpose. I'm pretty sure. And who am I to complain? I was the one with Stan then, not HER. I refuse to let myself to become the jealous male version of Mandy. I would sooner smash my own head in with a shovel.

Still, I couldn't help but wonder what she said to Stan that made him feel the need to ask me for help. She was probably just bitching him out again, pissed off about the breakup.

Still, I was a bit of a jackass to her. I mean, sure she was been a total pain in the ass, according to Stan, especially during their last month, but still. I think I might have taken it a bit too far.

Nah. She totally deserved what she got.

But somehow, I couldn't shake the thought that somewhere Mandy was scrunched up tight in her bedroom, crying her eyes out at the loss of Stan. I couldn't blame her, I mean, Stan was really a one-in-a-million type of guy. Or maybe that's just his best friend talking.

That tiny prick of guilt wouldn't go away, so I turned on my computer, and googled 'apology ecards'. Next, I opened up MSN and logged into Stan's account. He didn't know that I've known his password for years. I scrolled down his list, finally deciding that if 'Mandy – Fuck you Stan wasn't her, then no one was.

I finally selected some lame card that said 'I'm sorry,' handwritten in purple. It also had several pink bunnies hopping around. If that didn't scream girl, I didn't know what did.

Now, for the personal touch.

_Sorry for being a jackass. I'm sure you'll find someone else._

_Love Kyle_

Short and sweet.

The only hesitation I had was that she would now know my email address, I hoped she wouldn't get too pissed and start spamming my account or sending me viruses or something.

As I felt my guilt start to fade away, I realized that I had totally forgotten that our grades were up today. I felt my stomach clench in anticipation as I logged into the Harvard system. I sent out a small prayer that I would at least have a decent average.

I took one look at the screen, and my jaw dropped.

_My parents are going to kill me._

---

"86."

"What?"

I stared blankly at my cell phone for a moment, before placing it back to my ear.

"I said 86."

"I heard what you said Kyle, what the hell is 86?" He sounded upset or pissed off or something.

"My average. My parents are going to roast me. I just called to say that it was nice knowing you."

My brain processed each sentence individually. "86? At Harvard? In your first year? That is so fucking incredible, Kyle!"

"I'm dead."

"You're not dead, Kyle. That is so kickass! I'm sure your parents will be happy."

"Don't look for me – you won't find the body."

"Kyle, SERIOUSLY. That is fucking amazing!"

"Maybe I should just end my life myself – make it less painful."

"KYLE!"

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. But I can't stop thinking about the last thing my mom said to me before I left for Harvard. She said – " He paused for a moment. "You better keep at the minimum a ninety average, or don't bother coming home. She was just joking. I think."

"Dude, your mom wouldn't throw her only biological child out of the house."

"But still – oh man Stan, I'm going to have to tell her eventually. She'll break both my legs and tear out my liver. You can't LIVE WITHOUT YOUR LIVER STAN!"

Hysterical Kyle always equaled irrational Kyle. "She's not going to tear out your liver Kyle! You're making this a way bigger deal than it really is."

I heard a gasp on the other end of the line. "I just remembered something! Do you know what she said last night?"

Fine. I'll humour him. "What did she say?"

"She said she's been wanting to try cooking liver, Stan! LIVER!" I could almost picture him running around screaming, flailing his arms. I couldn't help but snicker.

"I think you don't understand the scale of my problem, Stan. YOU CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT YOUR LIVER!"

I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing.

"Oh, so you think this is funny do you? How funny will it be when you find me dead in my room with my liver cut out? Huh?" The funniest part was that he was being dead serious.

I tried to recollect myself. "Kyle, what is with your obsession with livers? Your mom is not going to cut yours out, so chill!"

"I don't have an obsession with livers. My mom does! She's going to cut it out and feed it to Dad and Ike, then send some off to her friends!"

I scrunched my nose. "Ew, that is so sick. You're going to make me barf."

"You know what WILL make you barf? Finding my bloody dead body."

"Kyle. Time to calm down. Your mom will not cut out your liver. She'll have to get through me first."

"Don't think she won't cut yours out too Stan."

"Nah, I'm too speedy for her. You have nothing to be worried about. Your mom probably even forgot she said that, and will laugh at how dumb you're being."

Kyle hesitated. "You think?"

"Yes."

"She won't throw me out?"

"I highly doubt it," I told him.

"And she won't cut out my liver?"

I laughed again. "Dude, she will not cut out your liver! Enough with that!"

"You promise?"

"Yes Kyle, I promise your mother will NOT cut out your liver." A woman walking by gave me a strange look.

"But if she tries…"

I changed my voice to impersonate Cartman. "Then I will personally kick her squah, in the nuts. Seriouslah."

This evoked a laugh from Kyle. "Alright Stan, thanks a lot."

I tried my best to do a deep German accent. "Not a problem, my beautiful little buttercup. And if she does try to kick you out, you can always come over to my place, and we can be loving all the night."

Kyle burst out laughing on the other end, and I immediately felt relieved that he wasn't freaking out anymore.

"Dude, what the hell is up with the accent? And don't you ever call me that again, or I'll kill you!"

I now went for a French accent. "But why not? Ees such pretty fleur. Mon leetle fleur. Mon belle buttercup."

He laughed again. "Fuck you. I'm hanging up."

"Buttercup," I say. I hear Kyle make an exasperated noise then a click, as the line goes dead. I smile, feeling very pleased with myself. I walk back to grandpa's room at the senior's residence, and my mother scolds me for taking so long on the phone, to which I reply with a beaming smile. She looks taken aback by this, but says nothing.

"What the hell are you so goddamned happy about Billy? You look like you just got laid!" I hear grandpa say.

_Talking to Kyle is way better than getting laid by any chick, grandpa._

I smiled at grandpa, making him glower even more. "I'm not happy about anything, grandpa. In fact, I'm perfectly miserable."

---

I didn't hear from Kyle at all the next day, making me worry irrationally that maybe Kyle's mother really DID cut out his liver. I tried to rationalize with myself, saying that it was his family reunion after all, and he was probably just too busy to call me. Still, I couldn't shake that mild fear in the back of my mind completely.

It was 11 am the next day, and I was still in bed, when my cell phone went off. It woke me up actually, and I groaned as I reached over to my desk to answer it, hoping for Kyle.

"Hlphlo?" I made a strange noise into the phone.

"…Stan?"

"Yuh, whu?" I replied while yawning. "Sorry man, you just woke me up."

"Well good, because we're going."

My mind still wasn't fully aware. "Going where?"

"Sledding, you douche. I can't stay in this house another second or else I'm going to explode." It was at this point that I realized Kyle sounded really angry about something.

"Kyle, is everything all right?" I asked him.

"Yeah. Everything's alright. Everything's fucking WONDERFUL," he said sarcastically. "Can I come over?"

"Yeah sure man. I'm up," I said, growing increasingly concerned. I wondered if this had anything to do with his grades. I'm telling you, Kyle's hard enough on himself without worrying about his parents too. I hung up the phone, and proceeded to rush around my room, trying to collect clothes and take the world's fastest shower, again. Kyle's house was ridiculously close to mine, which would mean that I would have approximately two minutes to do everything.

I had just stepped out of the shower when I heard the doorbell ring. I cursed as I wrapped a towel around my lower half and dashed to the front door. Kyle was there, of course. He looked like he was either ready to kill, scream, or seizure, maybe all three. He was even visibly shaking, a little.

"Holy shit Kyle, what the hell happened to you?" I exclaimed.

"My parents happened," he stated so calmly it was frightening. "My stupid goddamn parents can't just EVER be happy for me. Whatever I do, it's NEVER good enough for them! Do you have an IDEA how fucking frustrating that is?"

Wordlessly, I wrapped my arms around Kyle and pulled him close, not caring if I got him wet. I heard him scream a little into my shoulder, and I held him tighter. I kissed his head, and when he pulled back I caught his mouth, determined to make him forget about his parents.

Unfortunately, doing this made me forget about the fact that I was holding my towel up with one hand. Being as both my arms were completely wrapped around Kyle, the only thing keeping my towel from completely exposing my frontside was the pressure between mine and Kyle's bodies.

My backside, however was completely exposed. And luckily for me, I was standing with my back to a mirror. Kyle saw this, and a hint of a smile traced along his features.

"Nice ass," he commented. I gasped in horror, then quickly pulled my towel back up around me, releasing Kyle in the process.

"Dude, I'll be back in literally thirty seconds," I said, trying to fight the blush creeping along my face. "I'll be right back."

I ran back to my room, throwing on the first pair of clothes I saw, then raced back downstairs, not about to leave my potential boyfriend alone like this.

"Thirty-six seconds," he said when I returned, mockingly shaking his head at me. His front was slightly damp. I led him over to THE couch once more, and sat him down beside me. He put his head down on my shoulder and sighed loudly, closing his eyes. I responded by snaking an arm around his waist.

"So what exactly happened?" I asked him, curious.

"I didn't want to ruin the family reunion so I waited until today to tell them, about an hour ago," he started. "At the same time, because I thought maybe my mom would be less angry if my dad was there too." I nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"Long story short, she pretty much blew up and started yelling and screaming at me, about how I haven't been working hard enough-"I gasped at this. Mrs. Broflovski had no idea how hard her son worked. "-and how I was going to end up being a drop-out failure, and that I was wasting their money on my education. But I mean Stan, this isn't high school anymore, you know? I can't keep my 97 average anymore. I mean, an 86 is so far from failing, and I'm still in the top half of Harvard students-"

I interrupted him. "Kyle, you are nowhere close to failing. It is so amazingly incredible that you have kept such a high average at one of the most prestigious schools in the country. I mean, look at me! I have like a 78 average at university! Your parents have nothing to be complaining about."

He smiled a little, then frowned. "That's really good, Stan. I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you feel bad."

"You're not," I said quickly. "Go on."

Kyle sighed again. "I just don't know anymore. I mean, Harvard's great in the sense that everyone always knows what you're talking about, but I seriously think the stress of it all is going to kill me. I – I want to sleep more than two nights a week, Stan. I want to be able to wake up after six hours and say 'Wow. I just had a great sleep, and now I'm ready to work the day. Not 'Wow. I just managed to sneak in a half hour nap between classes, and now I'm ready to write a 500 page essay.'" He sounded on the verge of tears, and that scared me. The last time I remember seeing Kyle cry was in the seventh grade when I got hit in the head with a baseball and got completely knocked out. He had thought I was dead.

I turned sideways on the couch to hold him properly, and he fell against me, muttering something. I rubbed his back, telling him it was going to be okay, but he shook his head.

"No, Stan. It's not going to be okay. I don't know how much more I can take of this place. I'm not cut out for it. I-" he hesitated a moment. "-I don't even know if I want to be a lawyer anymore."

I hadn't heard him say that before. "Then don't," I told him. "Find something else to do."

He snorted into me. "Yeah, right. My parents really would throw me out of the house if I did that."

"Kyle, you have to stop worrying so much about how your parents are going to react. I mean, it's you stuck with the job for the rest of your life, not them."

Kyle nodded a little. "You're right. It's just that -well, if they cut me off financially, I mean, my dad makes too much for me to be applicable for a loan. If they cut me off, I am so utterly fucked."

"You're not fucked, Kyle. You never will be." I just realized how strange that sounded.

"And thank you for condemning my love life too," he said, trying to make a joke. I laughed a little, then kissed his head.

"Okay, well maybe just fucked in the financial sense then," I said.

"Mmm," he murmured into me.

"I want you to be my boyfriend," I randomnly burst out with. I clapped my hand over my mouth the moment I said it. The last thing I wanted to do right now was alienate Kyle.

He looked up at me, his eyes shining a little. "Really?"

There was no point denying it now. I prayed for the best. "Really," I responded weakly, fighting the urge to vomit once again.

Kyle pondered this for a moment, then smiled wide. "On one condition."

"Being?" I asked.

"Being that you have to be my boyfriend too," he responded, still smiling. I grinned at him, feeling my heart soar. I grabbed him by the waist and fell backwards on the couch, Kyle on top of me. He wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled his face into my sweater. There were no words to explain what I was feeling right then.

Love maybe?

I think I love you Kyle.

I wrapped my arms around him, holding him back. After a few moments, I remembered our original plans for the day.

"You still up for sledding?" I asked him.

Kyle took his face out of my sweater just long enough to grin at me.

"Fuck yeah," he said.

---

Phil Collins Hill was not far from our houses, which is why we often went sledding there as kids. After going through Stan's entire garage, we finally managed to find an old beat up sled that used to fit the four of us (Stan, me, Cartman, Kenny). I doubted it would fit both of us now, but whatever. As we all started getting older, we started building moguls into the side of the hill as well as several other objects, changing the hill into more of an obstacle course. One year, it was even my brilliant idea to build a wooden ramp into its side, and it was the hit of the year. It may even still be there.

So, as you can imagine, Phil Collins hill was quite transformed, and had several newer names. I called it 'break-neck mountain,' Stan called it 'flying through the air until you land somewhere, breaking your neck', Kenny called it 'the place where I broke my neck several times,' and Cartman called it "The flying Hitler."

So it would be safe to say that the hill had a bit of a reputation.

Me and Stan walked there, dragging two beat up old sleds behind us. It took us approximately 13 minutes. By then, the clear air had done me some good, and I had nearly forgotten that I had given myself a headache from being so pissed just a short while ago.

Heh. Stan wants me to be his boyfriend. I grin to myself, and Stan looks at me curiously.

"What?" he says, suspicious.

"Nothing, "I reply, grinning wider. _Goddamn I suck. _Stan says nothing more, but by the way he's looking at me, I think he knows.

When we get there, I laugh at how little it's changed. The moguls and bumps we created in the dirt remained, and my old wooden ramp was still there. There are a few other people there, mostly preteen girls. One kind of reminds me of the kinder tramp at the mall, because her ass crack is hanging out of her jeans.

_Pull them up_, I try to tell her through telekinesis, and surprisingly enough, she does. I snicker, and Stan looks at me confused again.

"Just flexing my psychic powers," I inform him.

"Right," Stan says as he starts to make his way to the top. I take a glance at the hill, and snort.

"Stan, look over there," I say to him gesturing at two boys who were at that very moment, sledding down the hill. I was able to make out a blur of brown hair and a blue hat.

"Dude… is that Craig and Clyde?"

"It totally is," I say, smirking as they hit a mogul and make about three feet of air.

"Those two are so gay for each other," Stan states. I turn around, and raise an eyebrow at him.

"So that would make us…" I say, waiting for him to fill in the blanks.

"Yeah… but… well, STILL! Just look at them!" Stan sputters. "And stop raising your eyebrow! Do you want me to jump you right here?"

"Depending," I say, smirking. "You have the weirdest turn-ons since Towelie fell in love with a vacuum cleaner."

"Hey! That was TOTALLY weirder!" Stan exclaims, defending himself.

"Not by much," I inform him as we near the top of the hill. I notice Kenny is also there, along with some girl. As we get closer, I notice her to be the girl that I mentally told to hike her pants up. Kenny sees us and waves.

"Yo dudes!" He yells, beckoning us over.

"What are you doing here?" Stan yells.

"Yeah, I don't think your girlfriend will appreciate getting blood and guts all over herself!" I chime in.

"She's not my girlfriend," Kenny states as we get closer. "She's my cousin." The girl has blonde hair and is wearing way too much makeup to be going sledding. She giggles at us.

"I'm Tallulah," she introduces herself, winking at both Stan and I. Judging by her crack and makeup and flirty-ness, I'd say she's just as much of a slut as Kenny is.

"And, I've been on a winning streak lately," Kenny informs us, beaming. "Haven't died for a full two weeks now."

"That has to be some kind of record," I state, and Stan agrees.

Just then, I hear a loud screech coming from halfway down the hill, and I notice that there is a congregation of about ten girls and two guys, who are throwing snowballs at the girls. The are screeching unnecessarily loud, whining about getting there clothes wet. Um, hello? It's SNOW.

I see Stan look at the girls in a similar manner, and I smirk as an idea crosses my mind.

"I think these people need to learn that these hills are for sledding, not holding group meetings," I inform Stan.

He nods at me. "So what's the plan?"

I set my sled down on the ground. "We, my friend, are going sledding. I'll get the girls, you take care of the guys." Stan smirks at me and nods.

"Wait, what are you guys doing?" Kenny asks us.

"Watch and see," Stan responds. We sit down on our respective sleds.

"On the count of three," I say.

"One…two…" Stan says.

"Three," I reply, and we both push off, picking up as much speed as we can. They see us coming, and the girls scream and scatter. The guys do similar. I narrowly miss one girl, and it seemed like I was about to hit another dead-on until one of her friends decided to be a hero, and jumped and pushed her out of the way. They both landed in the snow beside me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a guy lunge out of the way to avoid Stan.

That's when I noticed that they were standing on a huge bump.

_Oh shit,_ I thought as I hit it dead on. I felt a bone-jarring thud, and then I was airborne. I was sailing until the sled flipped me off. I landed on my stomach about ten feet away from the girls with an oomph. Stan was about twenty feet away and had landed flat on his ass. He was turned completely backwards, his feet facing towards the top of the hill.

"Oh man! The look on their faces!" he shouted at me, gesturing towards the disturbed party. I turned to see. Three girls were moaning, and the others were clustered around them, pulling them back up and helping them to brush the snow off. The two guys were yelling at us and one flipped us off with both hands.

"Oh noooo," one girl moaned. "I've got snow all down my back!" It was then that I realized that I too, had snow in just about every crevice possible, and I laughed as I stood up, shaking myself off.

Stan came stumbling over towards me. "Oh man, that was priceless," he said, still laughing. "Come here, you have snow all in your hair." He proceeded to ruffle the snow out of my hair, ending it with an unnecessary slap on the head.

"You asshole!" I shout playfully at him, smacking his head back. He laughed at me, and tried to smack me again, but I blocked it, and got him again instead.

"Fuck you," he laughs out as he repeatedly tries to smack me, only getting me about half the time. The other half I am smacking him instead. It ends in a sort of smacking war, and it ends with Stan giving up and tackling me by the legs, taking us both on the ground. We both lie there laughing until our victims decide to take their revenge by dumping a shitload of snow on our faces and shoving it down our necks. As we both struggle to breathe and sit upright, I hear them laughing at us. I would have been angry if Stan hadn't stumbled into me from behind, sending us back down to the ground. This results in another round of laughter. When we finally get back to the top of the hill, Kenny and Tallulah had already gone down and come back up again.

"Oh man, you guys, that was brilliant," Kenny informed us. "Those girls – I mean, they just scattered like SHEEP!"

Tallulah pouted. "I thought it was mean," she told us.

"Pffft. They deserved it," I informed her, and she pouted even more.

"Hey Craig! Hey Clyde!" I hear Stan shouting at two figures not far from us. The Craig figure flips us off.

"Now, that wasn't very nice," Stan said. "Are we going to let them get away with that?"

"I think not," I respond. "Let's take one this time – we'll go faster. They won't even see us coming this time."

Stan grins at me. "Killer." Stan climbs on his toboggan first, and I somehow manage to get on the end. I wrap my legs around Stan's sides, and my arms around his waist. I almost start running my hands up and down his chest, but somehow manage to resist.

"Oh, aren't you two just the cutest things?" Kenny says with a lisp.

"Hey! Fuck you!" Stan says, narrowing his eyes at Kenny.

"Aw, sticking up for your boyfriend. That's so sweet," he continues on. Tallulah looks confused.

"Are you two a couple or something?" She asks us.

Craig and Clyde save us from answering that question by pushing off of the side of the hill.

"Gogogo!" I shout as I start pushing our own sled off the side. We fall closely in behind them. They make it all the way to the bottom in one piece, coming to a peaceful stop.

That is, until Stan and I come barreling into them from behind. Their sled goes flying along with all four of us.

"Holy fuck!" I hear Craig yell out in surprise. I am laughing before I even land. Then I do land, and lucky for me, I smack my left hand lightly against the ground and I suck in a breath. And then I start laughing again. I stand up quickly, preparing to make a run for it, until Clyde comes up from behind me and pushes me back down.

"What the fuck was that?" He yelled at me angrily, but I find I cannot respond as I am laughing too hard. He draws his leg back, as if about to kick me –

Until I see an orange-blond blur fly right by me, slamming into Clyde, sending him flying. Kenny is flung off of his sled into the snow beside him, and wastes no time hoisting Craig off of Stan, who was sitting on his back holding his face in the snow. He then pulls me up by my good hand, and the three of us make a run for it. I realize that I am still laughing, and haven't stopped even after we reached the top of the hill again. I fall to my knees and clutch my stomach, which aches from laughing.

"Holy shit Kyle, what the hell is wrong with you?" Kenny asks me.

"I-asg – fpg – ga-" I say, finding myself unable to stop.

"They're coming after us!" Stan exclaims, gesturing at two figures now halfway up the hill.

"I'm thinking we're all only going to get one more run in," Kenny says. "Let's go off the ramp, and then the second we reach the bottom, we all make a run for it."

"Definitely," Stan agrees. Tallulah climbs on the sled, followed by Kenny.

"Come on!" Stan urges me, but I really, honestly, truly cannot stop laughing. I feel like such an idiot, but still I can't make myself stop. My stomach feels like a thousand daggers have plunged into it, and I try to gasp for breath.

"Kyle, seriously, they're coming for us!" Stan says urgently. I can't stand up due to lack of oxygen. I think I might die.

Stan looks hesitant, then leans in and kisses me, and suddenly everything stops being funny. I am brought back to reality as I see Craig and Clyde near the top of the hill. Stan helps me up as Kenny shouts triumphantly 'Hah! I knew it!' Stan shoves me on the sled, then climbs on behind me and gives the sled a forceful shove with Craig and Clyde only about ten feet away. As we hit the wooden ramp, Kenny somehow gets sprung off of it, flies through the air and lands headfirst on a pointed rock, spraying us all with blood. The other three of us somehow manage to stay on the sled. "Aw sick!" I hear Stan shout in horror, and Tallulah screams. When we get to the bottom, Stan grabs my hand and yanks me up hard, and then we ditch our sleds and run. I look over my shoulder and see Craig and Clyde coming back down after us on their sled.

"Shit!" I shout out, and we start running faster. We run holding hands all the way back to Stan's house, where we rush in and lock the door behind us as fast as possible. I gasp for air and collapse on the ground, and Stan does the same. We sit there breathing for a few moments, and then I am laughing again, because I picture Craig and Clyde chasing us the whole way back.

Stan stops my laughter again in a much similar fashion as before. Only now I am aware that we are both soaking wet, and my sticky clothes cling to my skin. I turn my head away to speak. Stan responds by moving to my neck. He seems to like my neck a lot.

"Stan, seriously, I'm all wet," I complain. He ignores me. "Stan… really…oh God," I hear myself say as I feel him move down my neck. My body is tingling again.

"STAN!" I finally manage to pull his head off of my neck. "Seriously. We're all wet." My boyfriend pulls me up, wordlessly tearing my coat off of me and flinging it to the floor, and I do the same with his, kicking my boots into a corner. He then returns to my neck, and as I can feel the pleasure from it passing through my whole body, my knees buckle, and I fall into him, clutching his wet shirt. I think Stan says something like 'woah, there' and he wraps his arms around me to catch me.

"Stan… your parents," I say weakly.

"Not home," he gasps out before consuming my mouth with his own. A moan laced with desire escapes me, and I lose all control over my feet completely. Stan is all that is keeping me from falling to the floor. He half-drags me over to the stairs, and when he realizes that there is no way that I would be able to walk on my own, he picks me up much as how he did at the movie theatre. He carries me up the stairs and into his room, dropping me on his bed. And then he is right back with me, smirking a little.

"So you're wet eh? Well let's just get these wet clothes off of you," he says, his voice so sexy that I want to tear my clothes off myself. He grabs the bottom of my sweater and yanks it up over my head. My shirt underneath catches and comes off along with it. Then my glasses catch and they're gone too. One movement and I am half naked in front of Stan. He kisses my chest in several places, and my eyes flutter closed. I slowly trace my fingertips down to the bottom of his shirt, and I pull it slowly off of him. He lets himself fall on top of me, and the sensation of his naked chest against my own alone is enough to induce a long string of moans from within myself, which sets Stan off. He raises himself back to my lips and kisses me deeply while I explore his back with my hands.

_I think I love you Stan._

We proceed to make out and explore each other's naked torsos until we can't feel our faces and hands anymore.


	14. Acting Gay KPOV

Okay, so this is the third last chapter, as in there will be two more after this one. Everything's winding down. This story doesn't really need this chapter, but it's just something I had to do.

p.s. if you haven't figured it out yet, the title is a pun.

So thanks to everyone for their support/reviews!

Oh, and formal apologies to Indiana Beach Bum, because I kinda stole the whole phone make out attempt from her. smacks self

First disclaimer ever! I don't own South Park. In the real world, that is…

Chapter 14 – Acting Gay KPOV

I woke up sometime later, feeling momentarily disoriented. _How did I get into Stan's room?_ As I regained my focus on the room, my attention drifted to the sleeping boy draped over me. His head was pressed up under my chin, and I felt his hair brush against my neck. His eyes were closed, and he was lying against me on his stomach. His eyes were closed, and I felt a little puddle of drool around the area of my collarbone. And I wasn't grossed out by it. Weird.

I turned my head sideways and noticed that Stan's hand was curled up in mine, my fingers closing around his knuckles awkwardly. Stupid finger splints. I felt his breath against me, and it filled me with a sense of adoration for the boy. For my boyfriend.

Wow. It felt powerful to be able to call him that. I raised my head a little, and noticed a hickie on my chest. I wondered if there were any on my neck too. From the way Stan was going at me, I wouldn't be surprised. I noticed he also sported a few of his own. I didn't even remember doing that. All I remembered really was an amazing sensation that ran through my whole body, the feeling of lips and skin against lips and skin. It didn't feel weird that my first real make-out session was with my best friend.

Stan stirred, and opened one eye sleepily. He muttered something to me, I don't know what, and smiled goofily.

"Shhh," I whispered to him, running my unoccupied hand through his hair. "Go back to sleep." I didn't want him to get up. Not yet. I didn't want the sensation of Stan's bare chest against mine to ever leave me.

"Whu time izzit?" He asked me sleepily.

I checked Stan's clock. "Around five," I told him, still stroking his hair.

"We should get up," he muttered, closing his eye again. "But need… more sleep."

I grinned at him, feeling the same way myself. "I took a lot out of you, didn't I?" I joked.

He smiled a little. "You're a fireball."

I blushed despite myself. "Wow, that says a lot, considering you've made out with your fair share of people."

"Never with a guy," he whispered back, nuzzling his head further into the side of my neck. He rested his free hand against my chest, and my heart exploded.

_I think I just fell in love._

"Is it really that different?" I wondered aloud.

"Is what really that different?" Stan asked, curious.

"Making out with a girl versus a guy."

Stan made a startled noise, then grinned and snickered. "Oh yeah. That's right. You've never done anything with girls."

I rolled my eyes. "And thanks for being such a jackass about it."

Stan pouted. "Aw, look. I'm sorry, c'mere." He crawled up me just enough to plant a kiss on my lips. "Let Stan make it all better."

I rolled my eyes again, trying not to smile. "So is it that different?"

"Well, I'd say so. I mean, you don't exactly have tits."

I snickered. "Would you prefer it if I did?"

Stan made a face. "Ew no. That would be creepy. And weird. And traumatizing."

I pretended to be shocked. "Could it be? One Stanley Marsh, womanizer extreme, prefers a man?"

"Hey, I am not a womanizer!"

I pondered this. "No, I guess not. That's more Kenny's area of expertise. But still."

"Let's just say it's a special power you have over me," Stan whispered into my ear. He proceeded to plant another soft kiss on my lips, smiling. I was smiling too as I kissed him back. This turned into a series of brief, light kisses. I couldn't remember the last time life had felt so amazing, so good.

We were interrupted by the sound of the garage door opening. Stan groaned.

"That would be my parents." He started to pull his body off of me, but I grabbed him by the shoulders, refusing to let him go.

"Nooooo," I moaned playfully. He struggled then collapsed onto me, laughing.

"Dude, you have to let me go. Do you want my parents to find us like this?" A familiar tune started to play from my pants pocket. "And your cell phone is ringing now."

"Ugh, fine," I said, pulling myself up once Stan had clambered off of me. I looked at my shirt on the floor, which had gathered a small puddle of water. I heard the door downstairs open.

"Do you mind if I borrow a shirt again?" I asked him. "Mine's still wet." He quickly tossed me one, and I pulled it on before answering my phone. Stan threw one on himself, then opened the windows in his room to get rid of the giveaway heat. As it was freezing out, his room was cool within seconds. Stan closed the windows again, then flung open his bedroom door to look unsuspecting, and quickly straightened out his bed.

I flipped my cell open. "Hello?"

"Hey Kyle. I called your home, but you weren't there so I tried your cell." Stan flicked his computer screen on and turned on the radio as a finishing touch. In the meantime, I did a double take.

"…Wendy?" I asked. I couldn't remember the last time she had called me. In fact, I didn't think she ever had.

"Wendy?" Stan looked equally confused. "What's she doi – oh hey mom," he said, noticing his mother at the doorway. I waved a greeting, while trying to pay attention to what Wendy was saying.

"Hello boys," Mrs. Marsh greeted us. "What have you two been up to?"

"Oh the usual," Stan said. "You know. Hanging out."

Mrs. Marsh smiled at us. "It's so nice to see you two are still friends, even after being away at university for so long. It must have been so hard on both of you."

"Yeah, it was," Stan agreed.

"KYLE!"

"What?" I turned my attention back to my cell phone.

"Did you hear me? I said I'm claiming that favour you owe me."

"What favour?" I said distractedly. Mrs. Marsh was tsking Stan for leaving our coats on the ground downstairs.

Wendy made an exasperated noise. "You know, for telling Bebe that you were offline that one time on MSN."

"Oh yeah," I remembered.

"Is Kyle wearing one of your shirts?" Mrs. Marsh asked, confused.

"Yeah, his is all wet," Stan explained, gesturing at my shirt and sweater. "We went tobogganing."

I saw Mrs. Marsh glance at my glasses trapped inside my sweater. She pursed her lips, but made no mention of it. "Go pick your coats up off the floor," she directed her son before leaving. Stan made his way downstairs.

"So do you want to hear what you owe me?" Wendy asked.

"Not really, but shoot," I told her. Stan came back upstairs, and with a quick glance behind him, began to viciously attack me with kisses. I started laughing.

"Stan stop, I'm talking to Wendy," I told him.

"What the HELL is going on over there?" Wendy demanded.

"Oh, Stan won't stop poking me," I covered quickly.

"Oh, are you with Stan right now? Perfect, because I need two people. And technically, he owes me too for getting Bebe off of him at the party." Stan tried to attack me again, but I fended him off.

"So what's the deal?" I asked Wendy, curious. Stan was creeping around to behind me. I watched him warily.

She hesitated on the other end before she spoke. "As you may know, I'm directing the New Years' annual play for South Park this year. You know, the one that always takes place on December 30th." I actually hadn't known this, but I said nothing. Stan knelt behind me, looking ready to attack. I was getting a little worried.

"And, as you probably know as well, all the directors try to cover important events that occur each year in it. Well, this year, a small part of the play was focused on gay marriage. Just a small part!" she exclaimed. I did not like where this was going. Stan was still not moving; it was kind of creepy.

"It's a short scene, it really is!" She informed me, not wanting to have me make a big deal out of it. "You have a few lines with the other actors, and then there's a proposal scene. It's really not a big deal, it's only a few minutes! And there's just this one, TINY brief kiss! It's not like you have to make out or anything! And the lines wouldn't be all that hard to memorize!"

My stomach twisted into a knot. "So what happened to the other actors?"

"Well, one of them broke their leg on that god-awful ramp YOU built on Phil Collins hill a few years back," she informed me. "And the other one, it turns out, was an alien, and its mothership came to take it back to its planet."

"That's … interesting," I said. "It's also an awful lot to ask for." Stan was NOT going to like this one bit.

"Do you WANT me to tell Bebe that you told me to lie to her for you?"

I cringed. "No."

"Perfect. So meet me at the South Park theatre tomorrow at eight in the morning with Stan. We have a lot of work to do." And she hung up. I closed my cell phone, and placed it back in my pocket. The second I slid it in, Stan pulled me backwards roughly, and I fell onto the ground. Before I had even a moment to react, he down on my stomach, pinning me to the ground. I wrestled with him for a moment before he got off, eyes gleaming victory.

"So what did she want?" Stan asked curiously.

I sighed. "You don't get stage-fright, do you?"

---

"Wow. Oh baby. I LOVE you. So. Much." Stan read monotonously from a piece of paper. His face flushed red from humiliation, and I snickered at him. He glared at me.

Wendy smacked her head in exasperation. "Stan, could you read that with a little LESS emotion please?" She asked sarcastically. "Say it like you mean it!"

It had taken a good two hours to convince Stan to go through with this, and nearly as long to get him out of bed that morning. Turns out he WAS the type to get stage fright, as the second I told him he'd be on a stage in front of people, acting really, REALLY gay, he ran to the bathroom and emptied his stomach. Repeatedly. Four times, in fact.

Stan tried to read it again. "Woah, oh Bay. Bee. I love YOU. So. MUCH." Stan looked like he wanted to die. Wendy looked like she was about to lose it.

"Stan… come on!"

"Yeah, come on baby, tell me how much you love me," I said, puckering my lips and batting my eyelashes.

"Fuck. You," Stan replied through gritted teeth. "Maybe I can't say it well because this SHIRT is cutting off my circulation!"

It was true. Stan was wearing a ridiculously tight shirt; it had to be at least three sizes too small. Apparently it was some part of the stereotypical gay cliché; the only thing that could have made it gayer was if it was tie dye. It was definitely not Stan's style.

I, meanwhile, was wearing those ridiculous 70s men's bellbottoms that fit your ass really well. Like girl pants, basically. With a baby blue belt that screamed ass-rammer. Me and Stan would never hear the end of this, that's for sure.

"Stan, it's just a part of the costume!" Wendy exclaimed. "Girls wear tight shirts all the time!"

Stan growled. "Yeah. That's right. GIRLS wear them all the time."

Wendy rolled her eyes. "Well, sorreee for comprising your heterosexuality for one night, but you'll just have to deal with it."

"We're going to be the laughing stock in South Park," Stan complained, refusing to give up.

"Yeah, probably," I agreed.

Wendy threw her arms up in the air. "Holy shit you guys, it's just a stupid play! No one's going to think anything less of you for helping me out at the last minute! I mean, everyone knows you both are totally straight."

Somewhere in the back of my mind I was cackling maniacally. Outwards, I said:

"Yeah, you're right."

"So Stan, can you PLEASE say your line, and mean it?" Wendy demanded.

"Here, try without reading it right off the page," I suggested, taking the papers away from him. Stan made a face at me.

"Go," Wendy ordered.

Stan clutched his heart melodramatically. "Woah, baby, I just love you so much," he declared, staring straight into my eyes with amusement.

Wendy pondered this. "Well, definitely better, but the heart clutch thing is a bit over the top," she decided. "And, would you mind – you know – lisping a bit?" she asked Stan with puppy dog eyes. The only thing Wendy knew about gay couples was clearly the stereotypes. Stan's mouth gaped in horror.

"WHAT?" he screamed at her.

Wendy turned to me. "What about you?" she asked, maintaining the puppy eyes.

"What? NO! No, nonononononono!" Stan sputtered. "NEVER!"

I shook my head. "Sorry Wendy, but I draw the line at lisping. Besides, that's just a retarded stereotype. I doubt many gay people actually lisp."

"Like you would know," Wendy retorted. I tried not to smirk.

"No lisping," I said firmly. She glared at me, then muttered an annoyed 'continue' at us.

I knelt down, and dug a small box out of my pocket with a flourish. I opened it, exposing a ring. I looked up into Stan's eyes.

"This is for you sweetheart. I will love you forever and always. You are my soul mate, and I want to show our love to the world. We can conquer any barrier while we stand side by side. Gerome, will you marry me?" I had memorized my lines after reading the script about five times, and Stan had shortly after. It turns out there weren't really that many lines, just as Wendy had said. I think we had maybe two minutes of screen time, tops.

"How come Kyle gets to propose?" Stan whined.

"Damnit Stan, does it matter? Just say the damn lines!" Wendy shrieked. Stan rolled his eyes but continued nonetheless.

"Oh, Peter," Stan breathed overdramatically at me. He took me by my free hand, and pulled me up. I took the small cardboard piece painted gold, and placed it expertly on Stan – I mean, Gerome's finger. Stan stepped back and looked at it, much as a woman would.

"It's beautiful," he exclaimed. I stepped forwards, and took him – very awkwardly, mind you – by the waist. Stan, just as awkwardly, put his arms around my neck.

"Come on guys, is it really torture for you to have to touch each other? I mean, you guys are best friends," Wendy said. "Do it again, and try to make it look more – natural."

We pulled apart, then did the same arm placements, trying to make it look more natural as Wendy said, yet awkward at the same time. You have no idea until you've tried it how difficult it is to hold your boyfriend like that and make it look awkward and like you don't really want to be doing it at the same time.

"A little bit better, do it again," Wendy stated. We drew apart yet again.

I decided to throw it all in. I stepped forward quickly, grabbed Stan by the waist and pulled him roughly into me. Startled, Stan automatically wrapped his arms around me to regain his balance.

Wendy beamed at us. "Excellent!" she exclaimed. "Now do the quick kiss," she told us.

We looked at each other, faces apart. I could feel Stan's breath on my own face.

"I can't believe we have to do this in public," he muttered.

"Me neither," I said, smiling a little.

"Could you guys PLEASE stop complaining and get on with it!" Wendy interrupted.

Stan leaned forward, and pecked me on the lips quickly.

"A reallll kiss," Wendy sang out. "Come on, like you did at the party," she told us. "Just pretend you're kissing a girl."

_Hah. Hahahahaha._

Stan took a breath, as did I.

"You better not puke," I told him, and he chuckled a little.

Stan leaned in and kissed me gently, much like how he had last afternoon. I kissed him back briefly before our lips parted.

Wendy looked a little shocked, but then she shook her head and her face was back to normal. "Good god guys," she said. "If you two actually became a couple, you'd be making a whole lot of people happy."

I snorted. "Like that will ever happen," I said, trying to sound convincing.

"Just one little thing," she said. "Would you mind – like – resting your foreheads on each other's for a brief moment after the kiss, before you break apart? I think that would be the finishing touch. Kay thanks!" she exclaimed before we had a chance to respond. "Keep practicing, I have to check on everyone else. I'll be back in an hour or so to see how you're doing."

Stan and I practiced all the parts down to near perfection, minus the kissing part. Neither of us felt comfortable doing that in public, even if it was only a play. If there weren't so many people in the room however, that may have been a different story altogether.

By noon Stan and I were practicing our lines with the rest of the cast. They weren't so bad; much less lame and emotional than our other ones. The worst we had to do was hold hands. By late afternoon, we had it down to a tee. A much relieved Wendy Testaburger left us alone to order people around getting all the props and last minute touches together.

By six o clock, with an hour until showtime, Stan was not looking so good. He had begun to pace nervously, muttering random things to himself. He looked a little dizzy and off balance too. No doubt within the next little while he'd be puking all over everything. Which is why I had been busily locating every garbage can in the near vicinity. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

After another fifteen minutes he had taken to jiggling his foot and hopping around. He looked like he was about to have a panic attack or something, so I located a chair for him and made him sit down on it, despite protests that he was fine. I also spotted another garbage can about ten feet away. Stan's face was starting to take the infamous greenish hue. He leaned forwards on the chair and rested his head on his hands.

"Hey Stan, you okay?" I asked him even though I knew he wasn't. I pulled up a chair beside him and tried to rub his back consolingly. Around us people were running around like maniacs.

Stan let out a long, shaky breath. "I don't know Kyle, I don't think I can do this."

"Of course you can," I told him reassuringly. "You know your lines just as well as I do."

Stan shook his head. He appeared to be sweating a little more than normal. Or maybe that was just that ridiculously tight shirt talking.

"I don't know man. There's a lot of things I'd do for you, you know that. But I don't think I can do this."

"You owed Wendy too," I reminded him.

"I know," he sighed. "And I think she probably would have chopped off my balls if I hadn't agreed to do this."

"Or sent you flying into the centre of the sun," I said, smirking. Stan snorted.

Wendy chose that moment to come bustling up to us. "Hey guys, how's it going?" she asked us breathlessly. Her face was red. She looked at Stan, and her face immediately turned to concern.

"You all right there Stan?" she asked, trying to hide the edge of panic in her voice. Stan moaned and clutched his head tighter.

"Stage-fright," I explained to her.

"Well, do something! Snap him out of it!" She exclaimed, panic rising in her voice.

"I would if I could," I informed her, narrowing my eyes.

Wendy's eyes darted from left to right, scanning the room. "Here!" she said desperately. "I bet I could get one of the girls to take their tops off for you! Where is Bebe when you need her?" Her eyes darted around some more.

My mouth dropped open. Did Wendy just offer to get a girl to participate in a demoralizing act that contradicted all the morals and principals she stood for? She must be really freaking out – her head clearly wasn't screwed on quite right at the moment.

"How is that going to help?" I demanded, thoroughly confused.

Stan in the meantime, lurched forwards. I grabbed the nearby trash can I thankfully had spotted earlier, and thrust it in front of Stan just as he lost it.

"Ewwww! Gross!" Wendy exclaimed in a high pitched voice. You think she would have been used to barf after all the times Stan had puked on her back in the third and fourth grade.

Stan looked close to hyperventilating. "Oh dude, what if I puke on the stage?" he exclaimed, leaning forward as another wave of nausea hit him. When he looked up, I noticed that his eyes were running a little, and his hair was disheveled from holding his head in his hands. He looked a wreck.

"Stan, you're not going to puke on stage," I told him reassuringly.

"Oh yeah? How do you know?"

"Because by the time you're done here, you won't have anything left."

"Gross!" Wendy exclaimed again, making a face.

"That really hasn't stopped me in the past," Stan reminded me.

Wendy was just standing there, almost looking as if she was about to puke herself.

"Wendy, go on," I told her. "Finish getting everything ready. I'll take care of Stan."

"He better be ready to go on the stage when his parts come," she told me, her eyes gleaming menacingly. She turned on her heel and stomped off to someone else.

I turned all of my attention to Stan now. "Stan, you're not going to puke on stage," I repeated.

"Can you prove it?"

"Yes. Yes I can," I informed him. "Because I have a motivation for you."

"Being?"

"If you keep it down, I'll personally deliver a little something special for you later on," I said in a low voice, winking seductively at him while trying not to laugh at how gay I sounded.

Stan smiled a little. "And if I do puke?"

"Then you get nada," I tell him, crossing my arms triumphantly.

Stan made a face at me. "That's almost cruel. And a lot of pressure."

"What are you? Tweek?"

"Shut up."

"That's the spirit," I told him cheerfully. He looked a little less nauseous, so I helped him back to his feet from the chair. He leaned in to kiss me, but I dodged him.

"You wish," I said. "You just puked twice."

"Which is why I've taken to carrying THESE with me at all times!" Stan told me cheerfully, taking a roll of something out of his pockets and waving it at me with a flourish.

"Mentos?" I asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"The freshmaker," he recited on cue as he popped two into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed, then blew into my face to prove its effect.

"Ah! Ah dude!" I complained. Stan took a quick look around, and upon seeing that everyone was far to busy to notice us, leant in and kissed me.

He broke away. "And?" He asked me, waiting for my opinion.

"Minty fresh," I informed him, grinning.

"Curtain time!" I heard someone yell into the practice rooms. The sound of the feet of many spectators was beginning to fill the corridors.

"Shall we?" I asked Stan, holding my arm out. He pondered this for a moment, then smiled and shook his head.

"I'll be there in a sec," he told me. And with that he walked away from me, and, with his back turned, spouted the last of his pride and dignity into the trash can.

---

The play, thank God, went off without a hitch. Stan, although very jittery, managed to keep it down AND remembered all of his lines. I did fairly well too, although at the part where I had to grab Stan by the waist I started thinking what if there was someone we knew in the audience. And as I kissed Stan, which ended up being really awkward for both of us up on a stage, I couldn't help but picture my mother as a member of the audience, with her eyes bugging out of her skull. I tried my best to ignore these stupid notions, but regardless, I was happy that it was all over with.

The first thing Stan did when we got off stage was tearing off his ridiculously tight shirt, which earned him a few looks of approval from the ladies in the cast, and throwing it on the ground. He then proceeded to hug me and then promptly release me in favour of bouncing around me like a small dog, chanting 'it's over!' repeatedly.

"It's over! It's over!" Stan beamed at me. Nearly five minutes later, and he was still chanting the same words. And I was still laughing at him.

"Dude, you need to get those pants off. You look like such a flamer in them!" Stan exclaimed at me, who proceeded to try to take the buckle off of my pants. I think he'd snapped a little.

I pushed Stan off of me, laughing. "One step at a time. I need to find my other pants first," I told him. Stan frowned at me.

"You don't need them that badly," he whispered between his teeth, grinning.

"Oh, I really do," I retorted. "We are in quite a public place right now to remind you, in case your current state of euphoria has made you forgotten."

Stan wrinkled his nose at me. "Who the hell says euphoria?"

"I do," I retorted.

"You would, Mr. Harvard."

"I swear to God I'm going to fucking kill you."

It was at this moment that Wendy decided to prance up to us, beaming.

"Oh my God! You guys! Were. SO! Awesome!" She exclaimed. "Seriously. You're such lifesavers! Come here!" She proceeded to wrap one arm around each of us.

She finally let us go for what seemed like five minutes, and revealed our missing clothes; my pants, and Stan's shirt. As Stan once again covered his chest, I noticed out of the corner of my eye a disappointed glance from one of the girls. I chuckled.

"OKAY EVERYONE! AFTER PARTY OFFICIALLY TAKING PLACE IN THE PRACTICE ROOMS!" I heard someone yell over the flurry of voices. A cheer went up as most of the cast and crew stampeded towards the said room.

"So are you changing those pants or what?" Stan demanded.

"Dumbass, I can't do that here. I need to find a washroom."

Stan waved my comment away. "Psssh. You're fine here. Most people are gone, and I don't think they'll care if they see your boxers."

I narrowed my eyes at him, as if challenging him. "Fine," I replied shortly, and before he could even react, I tore of my belt, quickly followed by my pants, right in front of him. Moments later they were replaced with my much more comfortable, baggier ones.

"There, much better," I informed him, smirking. Stan's face was a mixture of shock and something else. He pulled me away from the room rather roughly, and led me down into a dark corridor.

"Stan, what the hell are you doing?" I hissed at him. He said nothing, but rather grabbed me by the waist, pushed me up hard against the wall, and engulfed me in a mind-blowing kiss.

I pried his face off of mine, seeing stars. "Stan, we can't do this HERE, of all places," I informed him. "We'll get caught."

"Relax," Stan whispered to me. "It's too dark, no one will even see us. Plus they're all partying it up right now. AND you owe me for not puking." He kissed me again.

It was harder getting him off of me this time. "Seriously Stan, this is like the worst place to do this," I whispered. He ignored me, and instead went for my neck once again. I tried hard not to moan, but failed. Goddamn. What is it about necks that I can't deal with? And why does Stan have to take advantage of my weak spot?

"Oh, Stan… goddamnit," I breathed. "Please… not here. Have mercy."

"Too bad for you I'm not a very merciful person," he informed me. He went back to my neck. He thought this was all a game. We were going to get caught!

"Fuck Stan… please… not…" my thoughts were getting jumbled as I started to breathe harder. "Caught…" He slid his hand up my shirt, making me hiss. "Stan… please…Stan…oh God Stan…" I turned my head sideways in a last valiant effort to get away from him. I opened my eyes, and saw staring directly back at me the eyes of a very shocked Wendy Testaburger.

"Stan…STAN!" I said desperately. He must have noticed the panic in my voice, because he stopped and looked at me.

"Tyhpl…" Wendy let out a small cry, stumbling backwards. Stan looked over, and their eyes collided.

"Fuck," I breathed.

"I…I am SO sorry," she stuttered. "I-I won't tell anyone, I swear. I-I, I'm going to… go. Over here! Now."

Stan approached her. "Wendy…" he started.

She held her hands up. "No! No, it's okay. I'll just be going now!" she exclaimed, dashing back to the party.

I growled. "Great. Just FUCKING great, Stan."

"I'm sorry!" Stan exclaimed, returning to me. "I didn't think we would get caught. And she did say she wouldn't tell anyone!"

"Stan, this is like the WORST place on the planet to be doing anything!" I exclaimed, exasperated. "And her best friend is BEBE! If SHE gets wind of it, it will be all over town within hours! And then my mom… my mom…" I said, starting to hyperventilate. "She doesn't need to know, not like THAT!"

Stan wrapped me in a tight hug. "Dude… Kyle… calm down," he told me. "No one's going to find out yet. We can talk to Wendy once she's calmed down a bit. There's no need to panic." I nodded, trying to force myself to relax.

Stan released me finally. "Okay?" he asked me.

I nodded again, closing my eyes and letting out a small breath of air.

---

Stan was right. By the time we meandered to the practice rooms, cans of beer were flying around everywhere, and people were stumbling over props and chairs. Wendy was in a much more jovial mood, despite the fact that she didn't appear to have had anything to drink.

"Hey Wends," Stan said as we approached.

"Oh hey Stan," Wendy replied, still smiling but looking like she felt a little awkward.

"Look, about earlier-"

"I said don't worry about it," Wendy interrupted him, blushing a little. "I mean, it just kind of – surprised me, that's all. And now that I think of it, it really isn't even all that surprising – you guys have been best friends for how long? And I can't pretend I hadn't suspected it for years."

"What?" That surprised me a little. "But… wait-"

Stan cut me off. "Nothing's been going on for YEARS. This has barely even started."

Wendy looked mildly surprised. "Really?" She shrugged. "Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later at any rate."

"So you won't tell anyone?"

"I already said I wouldn't, do I really have to repeat myself again?" Wendy was back to her normal self again.

"Not even Bebe?" I asked her, wanting to confirm everything.

She sighed. "No, I won't tell Bebe. I know her uncanny ability to spread gossip around town faster than a wildfire. But you know, you're going to have to tell everyone sooner or later."

"Yeah, we know," Stan said as I let out a sigh of relief.

Wendy frowned at us. "Guys, don't look so stressed out. It's not that big of a deal. So go, hang out with the rest of the cast members. Have a beer. You guys were great tonight. Oh! And before I forget! New Years' party this year is at my place. So be there tomorrow, no earlier than eight." She smiled genuinely at us as she skipped off to talk to someone else.

"Oh man, tomorrow's New Years already?" I thought aloud, frowning.

Stan looked at me, confused. "Why, is that a problem?"

"Well, classes start again on the fifth of January, so that means I have to leave no later than the afternoon of the third to get back in time."

Stan frowned now too. "Yeah. Classes start on the same day for me."

"Booooooo."

Stan wrapped an arm around my waist, in an attempt to cheer me up. It didn't really matter – I didn't see a single person I recognized other than Wendy.

"Hey – let's not think about that right now," Stan told me. "Let's just follow Wendy's advice; have a beer, and relax with our fellow cast."

"Let's," I agree as Stan kissed the side of my head.

And so that was what we did.

---

YAY! Now as always, leave a review! Reviews smiles. Make me smile lots!


	15. Three Small Words SPOV

A/N: Apologies to all for the really stupid dream sequence, but I wanted to do something random! Plus bits will come into play to my sequel later. Foreshadowing is also a huge part of the sequence. Watch out for the symbols!

Apologies for the rather graphic make out at the end of the chapter. I don't know what the hell I was on, because I normally avoid stuff like that. Also, as I have been asked many times, no, there will be no 'lemon' scenes in my stories. Ever. Because I really don't feel comfortable writing that stuff. This chapter is as graphic or descriptive as I'll ever go at any point. I didn't even know what 'lemon' meant, so I looked it up. Apparently it's a sex scene characteristic from anime. So this story is not anime, and will not have any sex scenes. Sorry if I disappointed you there. There may eventually be implied things, but I will never write it. Okay, I'm done rambling now.

I got really frustrated with this chapter because I hated it, so I went on vacation, and now I'm back, and ready to rewrite it! Sorry for the wait! I can't believe it's been over a month! I feel so bad! Please don't hate me! cowers

p.s. second last chapter.

Chapter 15 – Three Small Words – SPOV

I was standing in the middle of a blue field with Kyle. I looked up and saw purple palm trees reach up as far as the eye could see in every direction. They twisted and became entangled with each other as they grew further upwards, eventually sprouting spikes at the end.

"Stan, where the hell are we?" Kyle asked me nervously as he looked up at the overwhelming mass that surrounded us.

"I have no idea." I blinked confusedly at the landscape. In the distance, I saw a huge volcano sprout of the earth seemingly in fast motion. When it erupted, we became showered with pink flowers, which caused me to scream. Kyle screamed too, only much girlier and high pitched than me, causing me to laugh hysterically.

Kyle glared at me. "It's not funny!" He protested. "You know that I have a phobia of pink flowers!"

This made me laugh even harder. "Dude!" I exclaimed. "Since when do you have a phobia of flowers? That's so fucking gay!"

This pissed Kyle off even more. "It is not! It is not gay for a girl to be afraid of flowers!"

I stared at Kyle disbelievingly. "A girl?" And before I had time to react, a huge pair of boobs suddenly grew out of my best friends' chest. I looked up, and saw that his hair now reached his shoulders, and he had makeup plastered all over his – or rather, her – face.

"Kyle, what happened to you?" I exclaimed, horrified.

Kyle glared at me. "How dare you call me that! My name is Mandy, you know that!" And all of a sudden, he was. I was staring into the face of my ex-girlfriend.

"How come you always have Kyle on your mind?" She demanded.

"Because he's my boyfriend," I tried to reason with her.

"What? So you have been cheating on me?" Mandy exclaimed.

"No, I broke up with you first," I informed her. Had Mandy re-lost her mind?

And seemingly out of nowhere, Kyle came down from the sky in a parachute, holding a gigantic lollipop. About halfway down, he got caught on the spiked trees and came crashing to the ground with a thud, getting cut on the trees along the way. He got up and brushed himself off, ignoring the fact that his blood was spilling everywhere. He came storming over to me and Mandy.

"How could you?" Kyle yelled at me. "You said you'd break up with her!"

"I did!" I yelled back. I started crying, and as I wiped my eyes, I noticed red came away. Blood.

But before I could even react to this, Kyle had stormed over to Mandy, and in one swift movement, he whacked her with his giant lollipop. Her head exploded, revealing Mrs. Broflovski's underneath.

Sheila looked at me blankly. "I'll only let you marry my son if you'll have a sex change operation," she informed me.

"But where will all the waffles go?" I cried out in despair.

Sheila pondered this for a moment. "They can come to the wedding," she decided. And then we were in a church, Kyle and I standing before a priest. I was still a guy, I noticed, but I was wearing a pink wedding dress. The waffles had all the front seats, which enraged Mrs.Broflovski. She tried to pick a fight with one of them, and then got dragged out the doors by a Frenchman in a tutu.

"Mr. Broflovski, will you take Mrs. Marsh to be your lawfully wedded transvestite?" The priest declared. Kyle looked very upset for some reason.

"No I do not!" He declared, before turning to me. "Why would you wear pink?" He screamed at me. "You know I hate pink!"

"But I love you!" I exclaimed, bending down to one knee.

Just then, a massive toaster came crashing through the roof of the church, crushing a golden statue of the Virgin Mary as well as several people wearing the Star of David.

"LEGGO MY EGGO!" The toaster screamed, whipping me with its extension cord.

I awoke abruptly, feeling very confused and half-expecting myself to have a whip mark from the toaster across my chest. I even went so far as to check, of which nothing availed obviously.

I would do the cliché of 'serves me right for eating (insert strange food name here) before going to bed', but I don't think I ate anything just before I fell asleep. I immediately concluded that my mind must be jacking off, and rolled over to go back to sleep. I felt like I hadn't slept at all.

Now on my side, I couldn't help but notice the alarm clock right in front of my face. It read 1:54. I closed my eyes then opened them again.

…

That would be 1:54 pm.

"AAAAARGH!" I let out a cry of despair. I then proceeded to throw my alarm clock across the room, hitting my closet door with a resounding crash and denting it quite nicely. Bits of the clock flew everywhere. I let out another annoyed moan before rolling onto my stomach and burying my face in my pillow.

"I gather you're not a morning person. Or even an afternoon one." I jerked upwards immediately while trying to roll over simultaneously, causing me to get tangled in my sheets and roll right off the edge of my bed, smacking my head quite nicely against my bedside table.

"Ah, fucking hell!" I cursed as I struggled to sit up, rubbing the back of my head. Dots were flying in front of my eyes, and as I struggled to see clearly, a figure bent over laughing in my doorway became apparent. Or more specifically, Kyle laughing in my doorway.

"Shit dude, are you okay?" Kyle asked me, still laughing. He walked over and sat down beside me. "I didn't think my voice would freak you out so much."

"I wasn't freaked out," I snapped, pride hurting. "You just startled me, that's all. You walk in on me too much." I managed to free myself of my blankets, and then pulled myself into a sitting position as well. Kyle immediately took my hand.

"Mmmm, you're warm," he commented before releasing it and diving under the blankets. He came up beside me after managing to cover himself with them, and leaned against me, head resting on my shoulder.

"Ugh. So. Warm," he repeated, sounding like he was about to doze off. I snaked my arm around my boyfriend's waist and kissed him briefly.

"So how many clocks do you normally go through then? I must say I'm rather concerned with your violent tendencies." He said, smirking.

I froze. "How long were you there for?"

"Oh, quite a while. I figured you'd be asleep, so I came over in hopes of waking you up, but after seeing you thrash around like that I was more worried that you might try to strangle me, so I just watched the show. You mutter some crazy shit in your sleep."

"What was I saying?" I eyed Kyle suspiciously.

"You said something along the lines of 'No Kyle! Not the lollipop!' and then you muttered something about waffles. And then you screamed, and I guess you woke yourself up. Why'd you check your chest anyways? You looked as though you were expecting a battle scar."

I felt my cheeks go red from embarrassment. "Ah, it was nothing dude. Forget it."

"No way. I'm curious now. What have you got hiding under there?" Kyle lifted his head off of my shoulder and turned towards me, pulling up my shirt.

"It was nothing Kyle!" I protested. I wasn't about to let him know I screamed because I was getting whipped by a toaster in my dream.

"Nothing my ass!" Kyle retorted, letting my shirt fall back down. And what the hell was happening that involved me and a lollipop?" Kyle grinned at me. "Some sick strange fantasy of yours?"

I winced. "Ah, sick! No dude, I dreamt you whacked Mandy in the head with a giant lollipop."

Kyle gave me a strange look. "What the hell?"

I shook my head. "Don't ask. I have a strange mind."

"Apparently. Oh, and that reminds me. Remember how we were talking to Mandy on the phone that one night? I sent her an apology ecard about that."

"How the hell did you get her address?"

"Your account. I hacked into it."

My eyes widened. "You what?"

"Relax Stan. It was really easy. You've had that password forever."

I groaned. "Remind me to change it. So she did respond?"

"Yeah. To put it more nicely and condensed, she basically told me to fuck off."

I nodded. You couldn't really expect anything else. "Nice."

"My heart was shattered. I cried in my room for hours on end," Kyle announced, rolling on top of me and wrapping his arms around my waist while his chin rested on my chest.

I patted the top of his head. "There, there?" I responded, feeling rather amused.

Kyle cringed. "What the hell am I? A dog?"

"Depends on what time of the month it is," I responded smugly. Kyle immediately pushed up off of me and turned around to glare.

"Hey! I'd expect that from Cartman, but you Stan?" I could tell he really wasn't pissed, but he seemed determined to make himself seem that way.

I responded by forcefully hoisting Kyle up by his hands, then pushing him onto my bed so hard that he nearly fell off the other side.

"What the hell? More violence?" Kyle asked, sounding highly entertained. I reached the door to my room in three swift steps and closed it quietly. I wheeled on my foot and gave Kyle an evil smirk.

"Stan?" Kyle said, squirming a little. He started to get up off of my bed, but not before I took a running leap, flinging myself into the air and landing directly on top of my prey, refusing him escape.

"RAAAAR!" Kyle yelled out in frustration. I sat on his legs and immediately grabbed his arms, pinning them at his sides.

"Aha! And what the hell are you going to do now?" I taunted him.

"Watch," Kyle responded, and before I knew what was happening, Kyle had gathered all of his strength and used the force of his body to completely flip me over. And the weird thing was that I still had his arms pinned at his sides.

Goddamn that's impressive.

We struggled like that for a while, laughing the entire time, until one particularly violent flip on my part landed us both on the ground, where we lay, breathless and still laughing. Once I had regained my breath, I rolled over on top of Kyle and began viciously attacking him with kisses. Kyle was only happy to return the favour.

"Remember… you owe me…" I told him between kisses.

"I know…"

"I didn't… puke…"

"I KNOW…"

I ran my hands down my boyfriend's sides. "I'm not … letting… you forget…"

Kyle broke away for a moment. "Goddamnit will you just shut the HELL up?" He demanded, eyes blazing with annoyance and desire. And before I could respond, Kyle had yanked my head back down so hard I swear my neck almost broke, and covered my mouth in another series of kisses. I pushed my tongue between his lips, and we were making out again.

"Stanley, what in God's name is going on in there?" At the sound of my mother's voice on the other side of the door, I immediately sprung away from Kyle, who looked equally as frightened as me.

"Uh, nothing ma," I said. "Just beating the crap out of Kyle for calling Shelly hot." Kyle glared at me menacingly, while mouthing 'what?' at me. I shrugged apologetically at him.

"Well, leave poor Kyle alone for a while. Lunch is ready." My mom responded, before heading back downstairs. I heard her mutter 'boys' under her breath, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"I don't think Shelly is hot!" Kyle protested, sounding highly annoyed.

I winced. "I know dude. I'm sorry. It was the first thing I thought of."

"I hate you." Kyle frowned at me. I leaned in a kissed him one last time.

"I can tell."

---

Kyle and I spent the afternoon at my place, watching movies and playing video games. And of course taking advantage of every moment that no one else was in the near vicinity. My mom almost caught us once. We really needed to be more careful. The thing was though, I didn't really care if my mom found out. I mean, I was certain she would be fine past the initial shock.

Just as Kyle and I were about to leave for the party, my mom took me aside for a moment. She led me into the kitchen, away from Kyle, then turned to face me. She seemed hesitant to say whatever it was she wanted to.

"You know I love you, no matter what, right?" She finally asked, furrowing her eyebrows slightly.

I froze and I felt my mouth drop a little. "Yeah, I know mom," I responded weakly.

_Shit. She knows._

"And you can talk to me about anything?"

"Yeah." Even though I knew she'd be fine with it, I still wasn't really ready to tell anyone. Kenny and Wendy were flukes. Besides, we'd only been 'together' for less than a week.

"All right sweetie. Just making sure." My mom hugged me, and I hugged her back. There was something bothering me, in the back of my mind.

"I broke up with Mandy," I managed to blurt out. She should at least know that.

She smiled at me. "I know."

That surprised me. "How?"

"I think I'd know my own son well enough to know he'd never cheat," she said, still smiling.

I felt a sudden surge of adoration for my mother. She didn't need to say anything outright; we both understood each other in our subtle comments. I hugged her again. It was such a relief to know she didn't think any less of me.

"I love you mom."

"I'm so proud of you Stanley."

I broke the hug, and turned to leave. At the doorway, I turned around.

"Thanks," I said, and she nodded her head in our mutual understanding.

"Oh! And dear," she said, as if remembering something. "We're having a New Years' party here with a few friends. The Stotches are coming, as well as Mrs. Cartman, the Testaburgers… and the Broflovskis," she finished. "And I believe they mentioned something about Kyle's younger brother, Ike, going to one of his little friend's houses for their own party," she added as an afterthought, trying to conceal the devious smirk on her face.

_My mom is the coolest person in the world._

"Alright, thanks," I responded nonchalantly. "And have fun with that," I added as thoughts about what could be done in Kyle's empty house began to unravel. I left the kitchen and exited the house, where an impatient Kyle was waiting for me.

"Way to take ten thousand years," he said as a puff of cold white air escaped his lips. "What the hell did she want anyways?"

"Oh, you know. Mom stuff," I responded. I took Kyle's hand, and led him away. Wendy's house was way close to mine; there really wasn't any need to drive.

"Be safe! Don't do anything stupid!" I heard my mom call after us into the night.

"Will do!" I hollered back, raising my unoccupied hand in acknowledgement. She closed the door, shutting out all light to the outside world.

"You think she saw?" Kyle asked, sounded mildly concerned, in regards to our attached hands.

"It doesn't matter. She knows," I told him. There really wasn't any point in secrets. I had never withheld anything from my best friend, so why start now?

"Does she?" Even Kyle didn't seem too concerned at this news. "And?"

"She doesn't care."

"Will she tell?"

I shook my head at my boyfriend. "We're safe." Kyle seemed satisfied with this response, and made no further mention of the event.

---

"Hey guys!" Wendy greeted us brightly at the door. "My parents are leaving soon, and then the real fun can begin," she added in a lower voice. "You guys came too early, so play it cool."

I checked my watch. Apparently we had, by nearly half an hour in fact. Kyle and I walked into the house to be greeted by Mr. and Mrs. Testaburger, who looked just about on their way out.

"Hello boys," Wendy's mother greeted us warmly. "How has college been treating you?"

"Fine," we answered in unison. Ugh. So lame.

"We're just on our way out," she continued, pointing out the obvious. "You boys don't give my daughter no trouble now," she added with a wink. "I want my house in the same way I left it."

"Moooo-OMM!" Wendy complained, flushing pink.

"Ah, ah I don't want to hear it Wendy. You know we only agreed to this because you promised to be responsible."

"I WILL! Jesus!" she exclaimed, obviously not wanting to start a whole scene in front of us. "Go to your party! We'll be fine!" She ended with a flourish, practically throwing her parents out the front door. Kyle snickered at her, and ended up receiving a demonic glare from the other party.

"Well, what do you want to do?" She asked us snippily, giving us an accusing stare. "You're the ones that came so early."

Wendy always had a knack for making someone look stupid or at fault. "Uhh, do you need help setting up anything?" I tried to offer.

Wendy narrowed her eyes at me. "No."

"Uh, do you wanna watch TV?" Kyle suggested.

Wendy, seemingly exasperated, rolled her eyes. "Whatever, " she said, stomping off into the family room, tailed by us. I wondered how Token ever put up with all this. I mean, Wendy was nice and all, but she was just so – high maintenance. At any rate, I was glad she broke up with me all that while ago. Or else we may still have been together. And then me and Kyle may never have hooked up. Funny how things work, isn't it?

She flopped down on the couch, grabbing the remote and switching it to some music video channel huffily.

"Um, would you prefer it if we came back later?" I asked cautiously.

Wendy huffed again. "What's the point? The whole thing starts in twenty minutes anyways."

"…right," I replied, decidedly taking a seat on the floor. Kyle joined me moments later. He mimicked a cat claw at Wendy, and I snorted a little.

Literally five seconds later, the doorbell rang.

"God, why is everyone early?" Wendy complained, determined to make a big deal of nothing. "Everyone came later at YOUR party didn't they?" She shot at me.

"…yeah?" I responded. "But so what?" Wendy stomped over to the door. Moments later, I heard a 'hey baby!' on her part. Apparently Token had shown up.

"Hey Kyle, can I call you baby?" I teased playfully. Kyle made a face.

"Ugh. Don't you dare. Or else."

I gave him a questioning look. "Or else what?"

"Iunno," hr grumbled. "I'll rape you, or something."

That card really had lost all meaning since we started dating. I leaned over and whispered into Kyle's ear. "You can't rape the willing."

"Ah, dude!" Kyle exclaimed, laughing. He smacked me playfully.

All of a sudden, the sound of a massive amount of feet stormed through the house. Apparently Token had arrived along with the rest of the neighbourhood. Slightly disappointed, I subconsciously lowered my gay-for-Kyle persona and replaced it with a just-friends one. Kyle, spotting something, wandered over to the kitchen and came back with two beers. In the three seconds he had been gone, the room and several others became filled with random people, eager to get totally smashed. Kyle chucked the beer at me, and I caught it upside down. Righting it, I opened it immediately, forgetting what happens to shaken carbonated beverages.

Needless to say, I got a lot of beer in the face. I swiped at my dripping face to discover Kyle laughing hysterically at me.

"Dude! You're such a dumbass!" He exclaimed, walking over with his own opened can, not fizzing in the least.

"Well, what do you expect dude! You toss me a can, it's practically instinct to open it right away!"

"Hey check it out! Marsh isn't even drunk and look what he did to himself!" Someone exclaimed. Kyle started laughing again, along with a few others.

I glared at my boyfriend, then quickly sought revenge, dousing Kyle in what was left in my can.

"What the fuck Stan?" He shrieked at me, then proceeded to further soak me in his own can of beer, hitting someone behind me as well.

"Hey! Fuck you!" The original character exclaimed, chucking his own beer at the both of us.

It would have broken out into a full scale beer fight if Wendy hadn't intervened.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she shouted at Kyle and I, completing ignoring the original character who proceeded to disappear for the rest of the story.

"He started it!" Kyle defended, pointing at me. Wendy turned to me, glaring murder.

"I don't need any of this shit tonight, Stanley Marsh," she growled at me. "Bring up any of this shit again, and I'll personally kick your ass from here to Tokyo." Even though I was a good few inches taller than her, Wendy could be really intimidating if you pissed her off. She gave me one last glare before stalking off back to Bebe, who had apparently just noticed our presence.

"KYLE!" She shrieked in her valley girl voice, running over to us and grabbing Kyle's face, where she proceeded to smash her face into his. Goddamn, that girl is too bold. I felt my face flush hot, and I had to clench my fists to stop myself from ripping her off of him. Kyle struggled for a moment before managing to pry her face off of his.

"Bebe, what are you doing?" Kyle squeaked out, rapidly trying to detach her arms from him while flashing me a panicked look. I probably looked ready to kill; I certainly felt it. No one gets away with doing that to my boyfriend but me.

"Don't deny it Kyle. I can see it in your eyes. You want it just as much as I do." _Where did this girl come up with this stuff?_ Maybe she just sees what she wants to see. That was the only plausible explanation that I could think of. Bebe wrapped an arm around Kyle's waist, which he tried to shrug off, but she merely giggled and placed it lower, giving a little squeeze. I watched Kyle's eyes widen in shock. It would have been comical if I wasn't so pissed off. I saw Wendy watching with disgust out of the corner of my eye. Even Bebe's best friend was appalled with her behavior. Or maybe that was just because she knew about us.

"Bebe, do you fucking mind?" Kyle demanded, sounding even more panicked than before. "I'm not interested, so back off."

The girl looked hurt for a moment, but soon enough a smirk covered her face. "You'd like me to believe that, wouldn't you?" She approached Kyle from the front, making him step back a few.

"I really, really would," he said, sounding thoroughly freaked out. I would do something about this, but I am currently so angry that I find myself unable to function.

"Yeah?" She whispered seductively, placing a hand on each of my boyfriend's hips. She leaned up towards his mouth. Kyle did the only thing he could think of and tucked his lips into his mouth.

That was when I snapped. I grabbed Bebe by the arm and pulled her roughly out of Kyle's grasp. She opened her mouth to speak, but I beat her to it.

"Listen here you little tramp," I hissed menacingly. I could feel the heat in the back of my neck. "He says he's not interested, so go hit on someone else and stop GODDAMN touching him!" I pause as I realize that I just made myself sound really jealous, and the red in my face quickly leaves. But apparently Bebe doesn't notice. In fact, she looks more indignant than even taken aback, or even insulted.

"Fuck you," she spat at me before storming off. I feel my anger leave as Kyle stands beside me, looking very awkward and embarrassed.

"You know I didn't-" he started but I cut him off.

"Don't worry about it. It's not your fault Bebe is totally obsessed with you." I desperately wanted to squeeze his hand or do something reassuring like that, but there are too many people around, and it killed me. Kyle nodded briefly.

"I feel so dirty," he stated, rubbing an arm. I looked at him sympathetically.

"No really," he continued. "I feel really dirty. I'll be right back – gotta go get this beer off of me." I laughed as he walked away, looking for a bathroom. I found my own way into the kitchen, and managed to get some of the sticky residue off of my face and arms. It would take a full shower to get the bit that it's in my hair, and I couldn't exactly do that here. I decided to go get another beer, and this time I made sure to open it more cautiously. Moments later, I was rejoined by Kyle. We mingled with others, and about two beers later, we came across Kenny.

Or rather, Kenny came across us.

"You guys are dicks!" He exclaimed at us playfully.

"What?" Kyle asked, confused.

"I said you guys are dicks. Real nice guys, real nice. Leave my cousin with my dead body and take off? I came back the next day to find her still at the slope, clutching her knees and rocking back and forth while crying a damn waterfall."

Oh yeah. I had totally forgotten about Tallulah. "Shit dude, sorry. I guess we forgot about her."

"Forgot about her? How can you forget about a nice piece of ass like that?" Kenny demanded.

"Ah sick Kenny," Kyle complained. "She's your cousin!"

Kenny waggled his eyebrows. "Third cousin."

"But still!" Kyle reinforced. "Sick!"

"Where is she anyways?" I asked, curious. I scanned the room, looking for Tallulah probably hitting on someone.

"Are you kidding me? The second I told her about the whole death thing, she totally freaked and took out of South Park. You guys totally ruined my chances with her." Kenny wrapped an arm around either of us. "Now, normally I would be mad, but with that lovely display of affection you two lovers shared there, I decided to let it go this time." Kenny released us, locating a beer and downing it in about three gulps. The guy had a cast iron stomach.

"You haven't – told anyone, have you?" Kyle asked nervously, voice lowered.

"Uh, isn't there some sort of unwritten rule about that?" Kenny asked us. "Don't talk about it until everyone else is?"

Kyle sighed. "You're awesome Ken."

Kenny grinned. "Don't mention it. But hey, do you think you two could… you know…?" he asked hopefully, mimicking a kiss.

"NO," Kyle and I responded in unison. Kenny frowned.

"Damn. Ah well, it was worth a shot. And hey, I saw Bebe earlier. That was fucking hilarious. And may I say she does she look fine tonight!"

"That was totally not hilarious," I informed Kenny, annoyed. "I don't know who the hell she thinks she is."

"It was SO hilarious," Kenny corrected me. "You're face was bright red, you looked ready to tear her apart. Damn, I wish she would come onto ME like that! But hey, maybe she'll be looking for a rebound now!" he added brightly.

"You can have her," Kyle informed Kenny. "Makeup, tits, ass and all."

"Nice," Kenny said, downing another beer. "I'll see you guys later – I'm going to go find Bebe and make her three times a woman."

"It's probably more like sixty nine times a woman," I muttered under my breath. Kyle snickered at me.

Kyle and I mingled/drank for a while after that. I spotted Craig and Clyde making out in a corner. They were so bold; didn't they care if they got caught? Apparently not, because Craig just slipped Clyde the tongue. Gross. Maybe they were beyond worrying about getting caught. They were on a totally different platform than Kyle and I.

About an hour later, the party which was rapidly turning into a drunken fiasco, was interrupted by the most obnoxious person of the planet.

"The fun has arrived!" Eric Cartman bellowed from the doorway. He thudded into the room, shoving about five people out of the way in the process. He grabbed the remote out of one guy's hand, and inserted a DVD into Wendy's system.

"Whatcha got there, fatass?" I asked Cartman. I was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol now; everything was slightly blurred and I felt a little off balance.

Cartman ignored me. "LISTEN UP ALL YOU FAGS!" he shouted at us for our attention. "ALL OF YOU GET OVER NYAH, THIS IS MY TOTALLY KICK ASS MOVIE FROM THE LAST PARTY!" This was enough to draw the interest of a large number of people, which seemed to satisfy Cartman as he smugly started his movie.

The movie basically consisted of shots of random people tripping and chugging beer. I had to be a little impressed though; the guys held the camera pretty level considering how drunk he was. He even created a proper introduction and used several transitions.

"This is actually not bad, r-tard," Kyle voiced my thoughts exactly. "Is this what you've been learning in your second year of grade 12?"

"Ey! Fuck you Jew fag!" Cartman retaliated. "Just you wait until the end!" This worried me. It sounded vaguely threatening. Well actually, it sounded really threatening.

My stomach clenched as the movie progressed. What did the fatass do? A shot of Kenny chugging a beer. Kyle and Bebe's spin the bottle kiss. Someone chugging a bottle of gin. Someone throwing up in my bathroom toilet. Kenny passed out on the floor.

I started to relax as The End? played across the screen. Maybe he was just being an asshole.

But then there it was. In rapid succession. A shot of Kyle and me kissing for spin the bottle. Kyle and me kissing onstage during the play. Me kissing Kyle's head at the after party. The screen went blue, and everyone turned to look at us, snickering. One girl was oohing and ahhing.

My mind went numb. How the hell did we not see Cartman at the play?

"Holy shit dude!" was all I managed to squeak out.

"What the fuck are you trying to prove fatass?" Kyle glared at Cartman disdainfully. I could tell his brain was whirring with possible excuses.

"What I'm proving, Jew, is that you and Stan are totally GAY for each other!" he announced triumphantly.

Kyle took a breath, trying to force himself to stay calm. Nonetheless, his face was rapidly turning bright red from anger.

"First of all, you fat fuck," he spat out, "The FIRST of those was from the spin the bottle game. It was totally against our will." There was a murmur of agreement. "The second and third were for a play that we were helping Wendy out with at the last minute! Where the hell where you anyways? I didn't think anyone could miss a guy as fat as you!"

"It's true," Wendy supported Kyle. "Stan and Kyle were helping me out. They owed me a favour." A few other murmured some more, and people began to lose interest in Cartman's story. Wendy really could be cool sometimes.

Cartman ignored Wendy and the insult. "The SECOND was from the play. Not the third."

Kyle paused for a moment. His face grew increasingly red. I knew that sign anywhere. He was going to lose it.

One deadly second. Then two…

"YOU GODDAMN FUCKING FAT PIECE OF HORSE SHIT!" Kyle screamed at Cartman, lunging at him. He proceeded to beat the shit out of a guy twice his size, with an injured hand to boot. I was both impressed and worried. I never knew anyone who could piss Kyle off like Cartman. And Kyle was dangerous when he was this pissed off. People gathered around and started chanting 'fight, fight, fight!' at them.

"Alright, that's enough," Wendy declared when they nearly knocked over a side table with a vase. She frowned, but I saw a smile flicker across her face. She liked to see Cartman get his just as much as the next person. She somehow managed to pry them apart without getting injured herself. "Settle down, you're going to break something."

Kyle got up and dusted himself off, eyes gleaming victory. The anger was gone now, and he smiled at me. "Sorry Wends," he said to Wendy brightly. "Won't happen again." And he walked back over to me and sat down. He didn't even have a scratch.

Cartman, however, was looking much worse for wear. A growing black eye and split lip showed on his face, and blood was trickling down his chin.

"Fuck you, you faggy Jew!" He screamed at Kyle before storming off out the door, completely forgetting his precious movie. Kenny hadn't, however. In one swift movement he removed it from the DVD player and pocketed it.

"For later," he said, winking at Kyle and I. I groaned, and Kenny laughed.

After that, people totally forgot the movie, much to our relief. People continued to get smashed, including Kyle and I. Before I knew it, the Times Square countdown was playing on the television screen.

I quickly joined in the chant with Kyle. "20…19…18…"

_I wish I could kiss Kyle at New _Years, I thought. _There's too many people around though…_

"…15….14…."

_Everyone's in this room though basically, I bet the hallways are empty… _

"…10…9….8…"

_I'm totally going for it._

'5…4…wha?" Was Kyle's reaction as I rapidly yanked him away from the group and into the hallway. I pressed my lips against his hard while bending him backwards as romantically as I could, while people screamed Happy New Year! in the adjacent room milliseconds later. Kyle, obviously surprised, flailed for a moment before grabbing onto my neck for balance.

I broke the mind blowing kiss for a moment to speak to said surprised person.

"What's your New Year's resolution Kyle?" I inquired, smirking seductively.

He considered this for a moment. "To spend a hell of a lot more time with you," he finally said, smiling at me just as he pressed our lips together again. I vaguely wondered how I was supporting both of our weights in my drunken state.

That was a question that didn't need to be answered, for about half a second later, I toppled over, taking Kyle down with me. And although that should have stopped us, it didn't. Once on the floor, our kisses quickly progressed until we were practically attacking each other like wild animals, clawing and kissing and biting everywhere.

Shortly after, I finally realized that this was the worst place to be doing anything.

"Shall we?" I asked Kyle, indicating the door with my head.

"Indeed," was Kyle's bemused and breathless response. I snorted in my mind. Indeed? I however decided to let it go this time in favour of climbing off of Kyle and helping him up. He briefly dusted himself off then followed me to the door.

"Going so soon?" Wendy asked us, noticing our beeline for the door.

"Yeah," I responded. My face was still hot from mine and Kyle's brief makeout just moments before. "Great party though Wends, we'll see you around."

Wendy seemed mildly confused. "But what are you going to do now? I thought all of our parents were having a party at your place."

"We're not going to MY place," I responded, winking suggestively at the girl. Kyle seemed less than pleased with this remark.

"Goddamnit Stan," he cursed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Realization spread like lightning along Wendy's face, complete with a full blush.

"Ohright!" She said quickly in a rather high pitched voice, practically shoving us out the front door. "Haveaniceevening!"

We ran, or rather, staggered, all the way back to Kyle's house. No lights were on, further proving that no one was home. Perfect. The second the front door was closed I pushed Kyle against it hard and smashed my face into his, ramming our lips and tongues and teeth together immediately. I couldn't remember the last time I had ever wanted anyone so badly in my entire life.

"Upstairs!" Kyle managed to exclaim as he took a breath of air. He grabbed my hand and we stumbled up the stairs and into his room, where Kyle promptly locked the door and closed the curtains in record time. He turned around and practically lunged at me, kissing me hard and wrapping his arms around me tight. He was clearly just as lust-crazed as I was right now.

My hands immediately flew to Kyle's shirt which yanked it off as fast as they could. I then grabbed my own and tore it off too. Kyle slammed our chests together and shot his tongue into my mouth, sporadically and passionately. I grabbed his ass for the first time as I led him towards the bed, and Kyle grunted slightly into my mouth. I swear to God, for the first time in my life I believed it when Bebe repeatedly told us what a nice ass Kyle had. I let myself fall backwards onto his bed while Kyle attacked my mouth and ran his hands all over my body, both of us moaning all the while. I grinded myself into him hard, and we both cried out as we felt just how much we wanted each other. My hands moved from Kyle's ass to his belt buckle, and after a moment I managed to remove it.

Kyle broke away from my mouth and began feverishly kissing in a line down my neck and onto my sweating chest. He traveled further south, and at just above my belly button I felt such a sudden surge of pleasure that my back immediately arched. I couldn't even begin to comprehend what this sensation was doing to me. Kyle did, however.

"I found your weak spot," he taunted me in a singsong voice, before returning to the marked spot, kissing and gently biting. I felt the overwhelming sensation increase until I felt as if I would explode.

"Oh fuck Kyle…yes!" I cried out, closing my eyes and tilting my head backwards, breathing loudly through my mouth. "Yes…oh fuck don't stop…"

I felt my sweaty hands grab onto Kyle's sweaty back, feeling his flesh under them and between my fingers. My movements were not of my own volition anymore. I somehow managed to hoist Kyle back up to me, where I immediately undid the buttons on his pants and tried to force them off. This proved to be more difficult than it looked, and Kyle had to stop for a moment to help me get them off. And then mine came off too, and we were both in our boxers. I brought my lips back to Kyle's and began to kiss him again, although gentler than before. He ran his hands all the way from my shoulder to my hips, where he toyed with the elastic of my boxers. I reached my hand between us and grabbed his crotch, and he emitted a long moan, followed shortly after by a sound along the lines of 'waugh!' as I rolled over on top of him. His hands immediately traced down my back to my ass, where they stayed.

I grinded myself into him again, and as he tilted his head back, I leaned over to his ear.

"I… love you," I whispered between pants to him. I had never been so sure of anything in my entire life.

Kyle's closed eyes opened as he looked directly at me.

"I love… you too," he whispered back feverishly.

We continued fooling around until we exhausted ourselves. We collapsed beside each other, still breathing heavily, legs and arms tangled together, where we just lay, not needing to say anything.

I was almost asleep when I heard Kyle speak.

"Stan?"

"Yeah?"

Kyle shifted uneasily. "Are you a virgin?"

This surprised me. "Where's this coming from?"

"I dunno. Just curious."

"Well, yeah. I am."

"Really?"

"Yeah." I counted on my fingers. "Wendy and I dated before I really even knew what sex was, Monica and I were only together for about three weeks, and the Mandy was a complete psycho."

Kyle snorted. "Alright. Just wonderin'." And with that, he rolled sideways and wrapped an arm around me. He was too cute.

In the early hours of the morning, I realized I should leave before the Broflovskis got home. I kissed my boyfriend's head gently, who had fallen asleep, and covered his partially naked body in his blankets. I crept out of the house as quietly as possible and eventually made it back to my own, where I immediately collapsed onto my bed from exhaustion, a soft smile plastered on my face.

"I love you, Kyle Broflovski," I whispered into my pillow. About five seconds later, I was asleep.

---

Aw. The cute. Now leave a review please! This chapter is ridiculously long.


	16. Come what May KPOV

**A/N: Please read this, because this is the final chapter.**

This story has been a lot of fun to write, and I couldn't have been happier with such a positive response from my very first fanfic EVER. Yes, EVER. I usually don't follow things through to the end, but the reviews kept me motivated to continue!

Special thanks to those that consistently left me reviews:

Coffeey, Indiana Beach Bum, LilChicky004, Fermata, Will Sing for Monies, RoxyRoller, SomeRandomKyleBroflovskiFan, Soon to be World Dominator, Fainted.Tears

Also thank you to everyone who ever left me a review I think I got everyone:

Wet Matches, Krstee, Fivix, A Certain Screaming Fangirl, Broken-SilverWings, Tiptopshape, Inusgrl90, Marie Terensky, Tanith Lilitu, Jojoaction, Wolf-howl 91, Loathed wolf spirit, Laura Barton, Seaouryou, Amante fiel, Trogdorthedragon, Tiz, XairangelX, Wingz, Itti-bitti, K4g0m3-ch4n, Chacha, Sara-isnt,

Jumpinpoptarts, SomeKindOfRomance, Freakchick, stYLE, kitty, Queen of Hearts, Moocow, Sharelle, TheSummoningDark, Shuggie, CameoCorbin, Forbre, Blue Comit, Broken-Silver Wings, Jess, EmeraldGrimReaper, Society's Cavity, Canadian at heart, Envy-the-Sinner, Warped Twitch, TweekFan, Mrpointyhorns, Darkrealmist

WOOO long list! Also, thank you to everyone who contributed to my 8000+ hits, and my 30+ faves and alerts! You guys are so awesome!

AND! **If you never left me a review, please, please, PLEASE leave me one at the end of this final chapter! Because I really want to know what people thought of the story**, and if you have any suggestions to make it better, that would be great too! And even if you did leave me a review before, please leave another of what you thought overall!

OHHH! AND READ THIS. Apparently no one reads these author notes, because I keep getting asked one question over and over again, being:

**WILL THERE BE A SEQUEL?**

People, I've written at least four or five notes saying **YES**, there WILL be one. It will be called **OVERCOMING OBSTACLES** and will be coming out shortly after the end of this one. There may even be a trequel, if you will, depending. It's going to be a lot angstier, but I'm going to try hard to keep the humour element in. It's basically going to deal with the issues of coming out and being in a long distance relationship. It takes place about two months after this story.

YESSEQUELYESSEQUEL!

But I'll bet you anything I'll get a bunch of reviews asking if there will be one. And I will be here, twitching away.

SO! If you want other material to read, **why don't you check out Indiana Beach Bum's fanfic, Fighting the Truth?** It is by far, the best stan/kyle fanfic I have EVER read, and it's not even done yet. Seriously. Check it out. It will blow your socks off.

Or if you're even bored-er (shhh it's a word), you can **check me out on deviantart**! I'm under the same name, broflovskifan.

So this is a long ass note. On with the story! And **thank you for reading AFTER EVERYTHING'S SAID AND DONE (AESAD).**

**---**

Chapter 16 – Come what May – KPOV

I woke up the next day, half expecting Stan to still be asleep beside me. No such luck. I couldn't help but be a little disappointed, but oh well. It was probably for the best; there's no telling what my mom would have done if she had found us sprawled all over each other in nothing but our boxers.

I sighed. That was what scared me the most about my mother; how she had the tendency to be completely unpredictable. You could tell her one thing and expect her to totally flip out, and then she'd be all cool with it. And yet you could tell her something else and think nothing of it, and instead she'd go nuts on your ass. This was why I was so reluctant to mention my current relationship with my best friend. There's no telling what she could do if you rubbed her the wrong way. After all, had she not started an entire war years back because of some bad language in some bad movie?

"Kyle Broflovski!"

Speaking of which.

"Are you planning on sleeping the whole day away?" She declared, opening the door rapidly and marching into my room. She walked over to me and put her hands on her hips. From the looks of her, she had only just gotten up herself. "It's nearly one o clock! Get out of bed right this minute mister! Oi! How did you ever get to your classes on time, I wonder?"

I raised my hands in defeat. "All right, I'm up, I'm up!" I said in a defeated tone while slowly prying myself off my bed. Saying anything else would have started an argument which I really didn't want to happen. It would just end up with us both pissed off at each other. I was like my mother in that sense. The younger teenage years were hell, but I learned from them at any rate.

The moment I sat up, I felt the makings of a hangover headache. Ah, curse it to hell.

My mother eyed me, frowning. "Don't you take that tone with me Kyle. Your brother needs to be picked up from his friends' house soon. And I know you miss your little friends, but would it kill you to spend some time with Ike? He misses you too."

That much was true. Past the few soccer games and the mandatory family get togethers, I hadn't seen much of my little brother. It wasn't that I didn't miss him or didn't want to spend time with him, it was just with the whole Stan thing, I had kind of forgotten everything else.

"Okay, so I'll just do something with him today then!" I responded, trying to shake some of the guilt off of my shoulders. It cut into the very minimal time I had left with Stan, but what could I do? He was my brother, and he deserved it.

My mother eyed me in that way of hers. "I'm going to hold you to that." What, did she think I'd try to get out of spending time with my little brother? That was low.

"No need to, I'll hold myself to it," I grumbled under my breath.

"What was that young man?"

"I said I'm going to go pick up Ike now!" I retorted in an exasperated tone.

"Good," was her final response before marching out of my room. I sighed. I was leaving the day after tomorrow, by lunch at the latest probably. That meant I'd be back at university by the early next day, leaving me with less than a day to get all my stuff together for the next semester. I groaned. Winter break was never long enough. I really wasn't looking forward to get back to the intense workload yet. I didn't think I'd ever be.

I groaned again as I pulled myself off my bed and towards the medicine cabinet, where I immediately popped two sweet hangover relief painkillers. Closing the door, I stripped down to take a shower, wrapping my white university bathrobe around me. Just as I was about to leave my room, my cell went off.

"Hello?"

"Heyyyy sexy," I heard Stan's voice in the receiver. "Did you sleep well last night?"

I smiled. "Sure as hell did; you totally ran me down. When did you leave anyways?"

I imagined him shrugging on the other end of the line. "Eh. Before your parents got home at any rate."

"And you didn't even say goodbye?" I pouted.

"Dude, you were asleep. I didn't want to wake you up."

"I wouldn't have minded," I protested. "I was kind of hoping you'd still be there in the morning."

Stan chuckled. "I'm sure that would have sat well with your parents. So, anyways, whaddaya wanna do today?"

I grimaced. "Stan, I'm sorry, but I can't do anything today. I'm supposed to spend time with Ike."

"What? So you'll be gone the whole day?" Stan said, sounding disappointed.

"Most likely. I totally owe it to him, Stan."

"Bu-but I want to spend time with you too," he said sadly, and I felt a pang of guilt. "You're leaving me the day after tomorrow."

"Hey! I'm not LEAVING you," I said, defending myself. "I'm going back to university, and you're leaving the next day anyways."

"Still."

"Look," I said, trying to find a compromise. "Today is all Ike. Tomorrow – I fully dedicate the entire day to you. From morning to night."

Stan seemed a little happier with this. "Yeah?"

"Promise," I confirmed with him. "In the meanwhile, why don't you hang out with Shelly or something?"

"Hah. That's a good one," he replied, snorting. "See you tomorrow, I guess."

"'Kay. I-" my voice hitched slightly for some reason. "- love you."

"Aw, see? Now that's sweet." Stan's voice was dripping with sugar.

"Jesus you are such a little gaywad." I snorted.

Stan didn't miss a beat. "Fag."

I laughed. "Fuck you. I'm going to take a shower now. Bye."

"Later. Oh, and Kyle?"

"WHAT?"

"Love you too. Buttercup." I groaned at the nickname, and hung up on Stan. I heard him laughing at me on the other end. Where the hell did buttercup come from? It's so damn retarded.

HE'S so damn retarded. But he's my retard, and for some reason that filled me with an unexplainable fuzziness.

"Bah," I muttered to my room, before leaving for the shower.

Ten minutes later, I was flying down the stairs while throwing on a plaid shirt over my black tee, wet curls dangling in my face. Annoyed, I shoved them out of the way as I grabbed an apple from the kitchen. Gotta keep the blood sugar up somehow.

"Kyle, Ike was supposed to be picked up ten minutes ago!" She exclaimed at me. I bristled at that; how fast am I supposed to be?

"Well, maybe if you'd woken me up earlier, or even taken the trouble to go pick him up yourself!" I muttered loudly. Shit. She probably heard that. I rushed to the door, anxious to get out of the house. As I closed the door behind me, I heard an annoyed 'whatwhatwhat?' emaciate from the kitchen. I hightailed it to my car, hoping that my mother would be calmer when I returned later.

The nice thing about South Park was that you knew where everyone lived, even if you'd never actually met them before. I was at Filmore's house within minutes. I knocked at the door, and some kid I'd never seen before opened it. He took one look at me, and then something seemingly registered in his head.

"Hey Ike, your brother's here!" The kid hollered into the house. A few moments later, Ike appeared in the doorway, along with his packed belongings.

"Seeya Filmore! Thanks for the kickass party," he told his friend as he made his way past him, wasting no time in dumping his crap into my arms. Nice.

Filmore closed the door, and I dumped Ike's stuff into the trunk of Blitzkrieg. Ike knocked on the hood of the car, making me cringe, as he eyed me.

"You're all wet."

"No, really?" I mocked him. "I just got out of the shower."

Ike grinned at me mischeviously. "You look sweaty." I laughed as I was reminded of Stan's comment a week ago about being naturally sweaty.

"Thanks a lot," I said. "Oh, and by the way, kick the baby-" I drew my foot back, pretending to be preparing a kick.

"Jesus Christ don't kick me!" Ike exclaimed, panicked. He jumped into my car, locking all the doors. Unfortunately for me, the keys were also inside.

I went around to the driver's side and tried the door. Nothing.

"Come on Ike, let me in!" I shouted at him, laughing, through the glass. I saw Ike shake his head. "Goddamnit, I'm not going to kick you! I promise!" Ike hesitated, then shook his head again.

I tried a different approach. "Well, how the hell am I supposed to take you to the movies if you don't let me drive?"

That seemed to work. Ike's eyes lit up, and he cautiously came forward and unlocked the door on my side.

"You mean it?" he asked me, eyes still untrusting.

"Yeah," I said as I climbed into the car.

"Can we get ice cream afterwards?"

This amused me. "What the hell do you want ice cream for? It's freezing outside."

"So? Can we?"

I shrugged at him, locking the car doors. "Why not?"

Ike grinned at me. "Sweet."

"Oh! And one more thing," I said, and before Ike had time to react, I had him in a headlock and began to give him a massive noogie. Only that I had forgotten that my left hand was still all fucked up, so in reality I was probably causing more pain to myself than to my brother.

"Ah, Kyle, quit it!" Ike complained, struggling to break free. I finally released him, and he jerked away from me, smoothing his hair. I shook my damaged hand, trying to lessen the pain I stupidly caused myself. Ike noticed this, and his eyes widened.

"What did you do to your hand?"

"Fell down the stairs," I responded.

Ike raised an eyebrow at me.

"Well, more like lunged down the stairs," I explained. "I hit my hand on the wall."

Ike still didn't seem convinced, but he dropped it. "Ouch."

"Hurt like hell," I informed him, finally pulling out of the driveway.

Ike looked at me, mildly confused. "How the hell do you drive with your hand like that?"

"Doesn't really matter; I only use one hand usually anyways."

Ike looked at me suspicious. "You know, statistics show that people who hold the wheel improperly have a 67 percent chance-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I interrupted him. "Save your statistics for the school room. You don't need any numbers to see _Blood Death Mansion_, do you?

Ike's eyes widened in excitement. "You're taking me to see _Blood Death Mansion_? I heard it's the scariest movie since the Excorcist! I'll be the coolest guy in school!"

"Something like that," I responded, amused. "But if mom asks, we went to see some lame cartoon, alright?"

Ike nodded eagerly. "This. Is going to be so awesome! You are the best brother ever!"

I snorted. "About time somebody noticed."

"When are you going back to Harvard?" He inquired.

"Day after tomorrow."

"Oh." Ike's face fell. "But you haven't even been home very long!"

"Tell me about it." My thoughts went immediately to Stan. "But hey, not to worry – another four months and then I'm home for the summer. And then we can go see lots more movies, and we can eat ice cream during the appropriate season, and Stan and I can –" I trailed off there.

Ike looked at me curiously. "Stan and you can what?"

"Uh… you know, like hang out and stuff."

Ike was silent for a moment. "Can we see one hundred movies?"

I smiled at him. "We can see two hundred."

---

So Ike and I watched _Blood Death Mansion_, which was not all it was cracked up to be. As I was finding more and more recently, I found myself analyzing the probabilities and scientific technicalities of every situation until I had reached a verdict of some sort, usually being that the situation was improbable at best. I was ruining movies for myself. Ike, on the other hand, loved it. Afterwards, we got ice cream as promised, and then we headed home for dinner, where my mother chewed me out for my earlier 'tone' with her. I was hoping to sneak out to Stan after dinner, but my mother decided this would be a good time for a family get-together board game of sorts. More like bored-game. We played Scrabble until we were blue in the face, and Ike even beat me. Once. I was proud to say that I won three times. If Stan was here he probably would have made a smart ass 'Mr. Harvard' comment, but since he wasn't, I had all the glory to myself.

I kind of wish he was.

I set my alarm early the next morning; and by early, I mean nine o clock. Shut up, it was early for me. I got dressed and headed over to Stan's house before anyone else was up, knowing that he wouldn't be awake yet. That was intentional.

Not wanting to wake anyone in the house, I retrieved the emergency key from a crack in the bricks near the garage, and let myself in. Luckily, everyone was supposedly still in bed. I could still see traces of streamers hanging from the ceiling from New Years'. I tiptoed quietly up the stairs and into Stan's room, closing the door behind me. The door squeaked slightly, but it didn't really seem to make much of a difference.

Just as I had expected, Stan was fast asleep in his bed. The guy slept like a rock. I stealthily made my way over to his bed, and managed to slip under the covers beside him with minimal noise. I was glad he wasn't thrashing around like the last time. Gently, I wrapped an arm around his warm body and rested my head on his back. He didn't stir. I closed my eyes, and allowed myself to slip into sweet unconsciousness.

I was awakened sometime later when I felt the warmth of Stan's lips against my forehead. While Stan was a deep sleeper, I was a rather light one and was reawakened easily. I slowly opened my eyes and yawned.

"Hey you," I mumbled to the person in question. Stan smiled back at me, and brushed a lock of hair from my face.

"Hey," he responded, only half awake himself. "When did you get here?"

I sleepily checked my watch. "Uh – two hours ago I guess?"

"Mmmm," he said, wrapping his arms around me. "This was a rather nice surprise."

I smirked mischeviously. "I thought you'd think so. I promised you the whole day, so that's what you're going to get."

"Excellent."

We stayed like that for a long time, simply holding each other. Just as I was about to get up, Stan rolled over on top of me and attempted to kiss me, which I resisted.

"Ugh, dude – morning breath!" I complained, squirming to get away from him.

But Stan was not one to simply let go. "You know you love it," he declared before blowing into my face triumphantly.

"Sick!" I exclaimed, trying to avoid Stan's face. But the second I opened my mouth to speak, Stan jerked my face back towards his own and kissed me, darting his tongue into my surprised open mouth. Acting upon instinct, I kissed him back before acknowledging that he tasted bad. I mean, REALLY bad.

Somehow I managed to shove Stan away from me. "Dude, do me a favour and go brush your teeth," I told him, making a face.

Stan rolled his eyes. "Pussy. You don't taste so great either."

"Well at least I brushed my teeth before I came over!" I retorted.

"Whatever, fine. I'll be back in a moment. Don't go anywhere," he told me, making the gun signal before exiting his room.

"Where the hell am I going to go?" I called after him. No response. Hah.

I walked over to Stan's mirror and tried to smooth out my clothes and fix my hair. I swear to God, you sleep on it for two hours and it takes a shape of its own. Frustrated, I tried to force it back to its original shape.

I was pried from my thoughts when Stan snuck up behind me and whirled me around, pressing me against the wall.

"Need a little hair spray? Some mousse?" He teased me, but before I could respond he pressed his lips up against my own again. With the awful morning taste gone, I eagerly kissed him back. After a moment, Stan broke away.

"Better?"

"Much," and with that I kissed him again. God, kissing Stan felt so good.

That was when Mrs. Marsh decided to open the door and walk in.

"Oh Stanley, you're up-" she started to say just as Stan grabbed me by the waist. We immediately sprung away, of course, but not before the damage had been done. I felt myself blushing furiously, embarrassed that Mrs. Marsh caught us like that when she had only mentioned knowing two days before. Stan looked rather red in the face himself.

Mrs. Marsh's expression was something of shock, but she seemingly recovered quickly. "Oh, Kyle dear, you're here."

I felt myself go even redder. "Yeah, um I kind of let myself in. You know… the key in the wall… I hope you don't mind…" I trailed off, tripping on my words.

"Not at all," she replied distractedly. "You boys go… yeah…. Do-don't forget to pack today, Stanley. I-I'll let you…be now," she muttered before hastily leaving the room. I guess the total reality of our relationship hadn't completely sunk in for her yet.

I turned to Stan, who seemed frozen to the spot. "We REALLY suck at this keeping us on the down-low," I said, smiling weakly.

"Dude," Stan said, eyes shifting to me. "Just… dude. Is she going to be weird around me now?"

"Nah," I said, attempting to console my boyfriend. "Your mom's pretty cool. She'll get over it fast."

"You think?"

I smiled at him. "Yeah."

We spent most of the day packing Stan's things up and watching TV. We later ordered a pizza, and after that decided we should probably start packing my stuff up too. Packing, mind you, consisted about 50 of putting things in suitcases and 50 of attempting to make out when no one was looking. This proved harder than it looked, as my family kept barging in at random times. Ike wanted to help, so we had to let HIM do his thing for a while, and then my mother came in, giving me a huge list of things to 'make sure I don't forget'.

Shortly after this, Stan and I gave up and decided to go to the drive in, because after all, who the hell goes to the drive in theatre during the winter? It would be totally secluded. I told my parents I'd be sleeping over at Stan's so we could stay out as late as we wanted. My excuse to my mother was 'because I don't know when I'll be home and the last thing I would want would be to wake my dear family up.' She praised me for being so considerate, yet somewhere in the back of my mind I was chuckling at the whole situation.

"I'll get up early tomorrow to finish packing – I'm nearly done anyways," I assured her as I left the house. "Stan's been helping me out a lot."

My mother smiled at this. "Stanley was always such a good friend. You two go and have fun now." Hah, she had no idea just how 'good of a friend' Stan really was.

On the way over, we stopped off at Kenny's so I could say goodbye. He was on his way to the bar 'to pick up a hot piece of ass' according to himself, and ended up badgering me into giving him a ride there. On the way there, he thanked us for letting him have Bebe for New Years, informing us that she was just as loose as she acted. Stan and I both groaned, not needing to have known us. For the rest of the ride, Kenny kept trying to get us to make out, so needless to say we practically tossed him to the curb by the bar.

"Thanks for the ride!" He told us as he closed the car door. "And have fun at Harvard!"

"Haha, fun at Harvard," I snickered as I pulled away. "That's priceless."

Stan sighed. "Kyle, if you hate it there so much, you really should leave and go somewhere else. Or at least transfer into a different program."

"Actually, I have been looking at that," I informed Stan.

Stan looked over at me. "And?"

"And they have a computer science program there that sounds a little lighter than the law studies one," I said, smiling. "I'm thinking about transferring into it – I've always liked data encryption and programming more than all this lawyer business anyways. And how mad can my parents be? After all, I'll still be going to Harvard, and it's not like I've suddenly decided to be a subway musician or something. I think my dad will be a little disappointed that I won't be taking after him, but he'll get over it."

Stan looked at me, impressed. "So you're going to run Microsoft or something like that then?"

"Or at least get all of the goddamn programming bugs out of their crappy programs," I joked back, laughing.

"Destined for greatness. That's Kyle Broflovski," Stan declared, beaming at me. "That's m'boy."

I looked at him strangely. "What am I, your son or something?"

A look of horror passed along Stan's face. "Oh dude, that's SO wrong for so many reasons!"

"Hey, you said it," I said, laughing at Stan's horrified expression.

Stan shook his head. "But still. Ew man, that is sick!"

Stan was shuddering all the way to the drive in, until a large bag of popcorn managed to snap him out of it. I swear to God, Stan inhales that crap so fast I'm surprised he's never drowned in it.

And that was how we spent our last night together. I brought some blankets from my place, and we curled up together underneath them on the hood of my car in the freezing weather.

I could honestly say that this was one of the happiest moments I'd ever spent with Stan in all our years of friendship. There wasn't any feeling quite like having your arms wrapped around the person you love and your legs entangled in theirs. I didn't really watch much of the movie; rather I just listened to the quiet sounds of Stan's breath and enjoyed the feeling of our closeness. I paid attention to every little thing that he said, and every irrelevant little thing that happened and stored it away in the back of my mind. I wanted to remember this moment for a long time, because I really had no idea when I'd see him next, or when we'd ever get another moment like this. I had been repressing the fact that I had to leave tomorrow for a few days now, and I was determined to keep right on doing that until tomorrow actually arrived. I would deal with it then. For the moment, I didn't want to think about anything but the amazing person lying next to me, holding my hand.

The warmth of our two bodies kept us through the first movie, but by the time the second movie started, we were both so cold that we went into the back seat to … ahem … warm up. I made mental notes of exactly what Stan's lips felt like, because I didn't know the next time I'd feel them again. I remembered what he smelt like; light cologne and that pure, utter smell of boy that seemed so right. I remembered his exact touch; where he placed his hands, where he kissed me, how we just seemed to perfectly 'fit' together, because I was afraid to admit I wouldn't be feeling like this for a long time. I remembered where I touched him, everything he said, the way he moaned slightly when our tongues were pressed together. I was terrified to face tomorrow, and I wasn't afraid to admit that to myself. The thought of being away from Stan for so long after having been so close to him hurt so much that I almost felt like crying. But I refused to let myself; if I did, knowing Stan, I'd probably set him off, and that wasn't how I wanted to spend our last night together. I wanted tonight to be nothing but pure happiness, because this was the memory I'd be basing my next four months on. It was how I intended to survive being away from Stan.

We stayed there, kissing and holding each other long after the movie ended. I could tell that Stan was cherishing the moment, relinquishing every detail the same as me. The windows in the car were fogged up; if anyone was outside, which I doubted, they probably thought two people were having sex.

"Kyle?" Stan said after a while. He was lying on my chest, legs cramped up on the other side of the car.

"Yeah?" I said, continuing to run my fingers through his hair.

Stan hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip. "I – don't know when I'll get to say this next, but I want to make sure I do before you go." Stan hoisted himself up to my lips, kissing me gently.

"These last two weeks have been – amazing. I mean, I never imagined this happening. Us happening. You're my best friend, after all, and a dude. Not that I care, because I don't. Well, I mean I care that you're my best friend, I just don't care that – well, you know…" he trailed off, fumbling for words. I smiled; Stan was never really one for speeches, but the mere effort was touching. I gently kissed him back before continuing where he left off.

"I know what you mean. We've been best friends for basically our entire lives, and this was the last thing I saw happening when I returned to South Park for Christmas. But I'm happy it did. I've – never felt this way about anyone before, Stan."

Stan smiled at me. "Even though we've only been together for a small period of time, this is by far the best and happiest relationship I've ever been in. No one knows me like you do, Kyle. And even though I can't voice myself as well as you, I want you to know that after all we've been through together, after everything's said and done, I love you. I always have, and I always will."

Goddamnit, he was going to make me cry. Leave it to Stan to trigger me. I waited for a few moments, urging myself to calm down, before I said anything. I didn't want a wavering voice to give myself away.

"I-love you too, Stan. Despite the fact that we have to leave each other now, I know we can make this work. I have faith in us." I really didn't care how gay I sounded, I wanted Stan to know that I felt the same.

"I have faith in us too. And I don't know when you're planning on telling your family about us, but when you're ready, know that I will be right there with you, holding your hand the entire time. And even if down the road, this doesn't work out, I will always be your best friend."

"Forever," I whispered, and kissed him again. Stan's weak smile wavered, and I saw his eyes fill up with tears. Around the same time, I felt myself begin to tear up. No surprise there.

"I'm going to miss you Ky," he said, voice cracking, engulfing me in a tight hug. I hugged him just as forcefully back, feeling wet tears on my chest. I willed my own tears to fade away, and failed. They spilled down the sides of my face, running into my hair and onto the car seats.

"I love you so much, Stan," I blurted out, trying with all my strength not to sob. I kissed him, feeling our tears mix into a single entity, and he kissed me back. We clung onto each other, not wanting to be the first to let the other go.

Eventually, after all our tears were dried up, we let each other go simultaneously. We said little to each other on the drive back to Stan's house, and even less as we crept quietly through his house and crawled into the same bed. It wasn't an awkward silence; it was more peaceful. We had nothing left to say because we had already said it all, and as I held Stan in my arms for the last time, and as I heard him whisper one final 'I love you' before falling asleep, I wished with all the force I could muster that tomorrow would never come.

It did, of course. Right on time as always. Time was a cruel, heartless entity with no soul, I decided. We woke up early to go back to my place to finish packing, which we made quick work of. We hardly said a single word to each other all morning, and a heavy weight seemed to be pressed upon us, making it difficult to breathe. It seemed the more I begged time to slow down, the faster it went.

I looked around my room, desperately searching for something left to pack. Nothing. I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat, and turned towards Stan.

"I guess we can start moving my stuff out to my car then." Stan nodded, saying nothing. He looked like he hadn't slept last night; he had bags under his eyes, and his hair was a mess. Silently, we picked up some boxes and bags and headed downstairs.

My father saw us coming down the stairs.

"Here, let me help you," he volunteered, taking a box from me and heading outside.

"I wanna help too!" Ike exclaimed, bounding out from the middle of nowhere. He seemed really eager to be of help to me.

"Okay, here's what you can do," I told Ike as Stan walked past me. "I'm going to give you my car keys, and I want you to pop open the trunk. Then you can help take some of the smaller boxes down."

"I can take the big ones!" Ike said in a defiant tone, decidedly taking the other box I was carrying from me. It proceeded to nearly crush him flat.

I took the box back from my grateful brother. "Okay, maybe just the smaller ones," he said, defeated, running back up to my room.

Loading the car took a good fifteen minutes, during which little was said. Stan and I returned to my room for the last time, making sure I didn't forget anything. I would probably end up leaving a few things behind anyways. Stan closed the door, leaving us alone in my empty room.

"I want to give you a proper goodbye," Stan said quietly, walking back towards me. It was basically the first thing he'd said all morning.

Meeting him halfway, he grabbed me by the shoulders while I grabbed him by the waist. We wrapped our arms around each other and engaged in a brief kiss.

"I kind of wish I had taken my mother's advice and taken a plane home instead of Blitzkrieg," I told Stan bitterly. "Then I would have been able to leave a little later."

Stan frowned at me. "Dude, don't say that. You love that car. And you still would have had to leave earlier than me anyways. We still would have had to leave each other." He wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Yeah, but still-"

"We'll be okay," Stan interrupted me.

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. We will," I repeated. "And who knows? Reading week is in two months."

"Yeah." Stan looked down at my broken fingers and knuckles. "Are you really going to drive all the way back like THAT?"

"Yeah. It's not that big of a deal; I can still use my palm. Plus I generally use only one hand anyways. I can tell you what IS going to be a bitch though – typing up papers," I told him, trying to joke.

Stan smiled slightly. "I believe you."

We were broken up by my mother who took the opportunity to barge through the door.

Stan immediately took action. "I love you man," he said as casually as he could while patting me on the back in a very manly heterosexual way.

"I love you too, dude," I responded, taking the cue and giving Stan a similar pat on the back before we let each other go.

"Oh, aren't you two just the sweetest things?" My mother gushed at us. "Best friends forever, right?"

I smiled at the lame term. Whoever invented BFF must not be happy at how the term is thrown around in such a meaningless fashion in today's society. "Something like that," I told her, attempting to smile.

"Oi! My buhbie is leaving me so soon!" My mom said, waving her hands in front of her face. She rushed up towards me, giving me a bone-shattering hug. "I'm going to miss you Kyle. You go and do well this term!" She said, wiping a tear from her eye. Stan seemed less than pleased with her last remark, but I shot him a warning look, and he said nothing.

We walked down the stairs and outside, where everything was packed and ready to go.

Ike grabbed me by the legs, refusing to let go.

"Don't leave me yet, Kyle!" He begged me, eyes watering. My heart broke a little.

"Hey, not to worry, I'll be back soon!" I tried to console him. "Remember my promise? Two hundred movies? It will be like no time has passed." I looked at Stan. "No time at all," I repeated. Stan discreetly nodded at me. I wanted to kiss him one last time, but I couldn't, not with my whole family here. I instead pried Ike off my legs and gave him a hug. After a moment, I let go, and turned to dad.

"Do me proud, son," he told me, giving me a hug.

"And don't tell your mother this, but you've done way better than I did in my first year at Harvard," he whispered quietly into my ear. I smiled at this, and when I broke away he was smiling too. We had our own little secret. I hugged my mother one last time, then turned to Stan, looking at him for what would be the last time in quite a while.

"Dude, once again, goodbye," I said nonchalantly, hugging him briefly. "I'll see you later."

Stan nodded for the thousandth time, in a daze. "Later."

There was nothing left to do, so I got into my car.

"Call me when you get there!" My mother cried after me.

"Will do!" I called back, closing the car door and putting the key in the ignition. I pulled out of the driveway, taking it all in: Ike, latching onto mom, mom latching onto dad, and Stan standing just slightly off from them. I waved one final goodbye, and drove away. I felt sick, leaving Stan behind me. My eyes started to water again, and I hastily swiped at my face, forcing myself to focus on the road and the map laid out on the seat beside me.

I was barely out of South Park when my cell phone rang. I somehow managed to grab onto it with my bad hand and flip it open.

"Hello?"

"Hey Kyle." Stan. Just hearing his voice made my heart break all over again. "I just called because I forgot to wish you a safe trip."

"Thanks dude," I managed to force out. "Have a safe flight."

Stan hesitated on the other end. "Call me before classes start, 'kay?"

"I'll do better than that," I replied, smiling a little. "I'm going to be calling you fifty times a day. You realize you're never going to be able to get rid of me now."

"Good," was Stan's reply. "That's how I want it."

"Excellent. I'll talk to you later Stan."

"Definetely. Bye Kyle."

"Bye Stan."

Pause.

"You still there?"

"Yep."

"Dude, hang up."

"You hang up."

"Oh goddamnit. We're not going to turn into one of those pathetic you-hang-up-first couples are we?"

"Depends. Are you going to hang up?"

"Fine! BYE STAN!"

"BYE KYLE!"

I was laughing again as I closed my phone. This was no time to be sad. In the past two weeks, I had fallen in love with the most amazing guy I'd ever known and started a romantic relationship with him. I had more than ever to be thankful for. We'd still be talking to each other plenty, and I was confident that we could make it through this. I remembered last night, and smiled. I had someone who loved me, and I loved him back. The future was promising with visions of more late nights and laughter to come.

And somehow, that was enough.

END

---

Ah, it's over. I think I'm going to cry.

**Please, please, PLEASE! Leave me a review!** I cannot stress this enough! You'll break my heart if you don't. I REALLY want to know what you guys thought of my story overall.


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